To The Journey
by EstellaDoreaBlack
Summary: In another timeline, another universe, Tasha Yar died seven years ago. But in this universe, she is alive to watch as the world she knows changes irrevocably around her. 70,000 light years away, her oldest friends battle their own challenges.
1. Chapter One: Missing in Action

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

**This story is rated T for possible violence in later chapters.  
>This story is a sequel to <strong>_**Big Doors**_** and **_**Perfectly Logical**_**, both of which I strongly recommend you read first. I may skim over some of what happened in those stories but you'll miss the depth, since I'll be writing those bits as reminders only. This story will be written on the assumption that all readers have read both prequels.**

_**Chapter One: Missing in Action**_

"Bad news, Captain?"

The times Tasha had seen Captain Picard this grim were few and far between. Just by looking at his face, she could tell something was very wrong.

He surveyed the members of the senior staff. "I'm afraid so. Seven weeks ago, the _USS Voyager_ left on a mission to pursue a Maquis ship that had disappeared. It was supposed to be a three-week mission. They have failed to report back or even check in." Picard's voice was heavy with pain that suggested a personal loss. "Starfleet has declared the crew of both ships to be missing in action, presumed dead. The names of all Starfleet personnel and all Maquis personnel confirmed to have been on the lost ship are available here." He soberly passed data PADDs to the assembled group.

During a war, officers became unfortunately accustomed to such news. But Picard and Beverly were the only officers in the room old enough to remember the fiercest days of the Border Wars with the Cardassians, when checking casualty lists and praying you didn't see a familiar name had been part of a person's daily routine. For most of them, this was shocking.

"You knew someone on that ship," Beverly said, "didn't you?"

"Yes. Her Captain, Kathryn Janeway." He glanced over at Will. "I worked with her on the mission in the Ranaeth Cluster. No offense, Number One, but she was my first choice for your position."

"None taken." Will's own voice conveyed grief. "I knew her too, at least I'd met her. A mutual friend set us up on a blind date. She ran out less than five minutes in." He chuckled through his tears. "I never did find out what it was I did."

"I was also familiar with Captain Janeway, although at the time she was not a Captain or even a member of Starfleet," Data put in. "Her father, Admiral Janeway, brought her on a trip to Mars when she was a child, which I piloted, and requested that I serve as a 'tour guide' for her. I found her very inquisitive and extremely intelligent for a human of her age."

Deanna set her PADD down loudly, causing everyone to turn and look at her. "Where's Tasha?"

"She's right -" Will started, but cut himself off when he realized she wasn't there anymore. "That's odd."

"Deanna, what's the matter?" Beverly asked.

Deanna took a deep breath. "Listed among _Voyager_'s crew is Tom Paris. He is - was - Tasha's best friend."

"That may not be the only problem." Data had begun to scan the PADD. "Captain Janeway's security officer was Lieutenant Tuvok. If I am not mistaken, Tasha had a close relationship with him as well, saw him as a father figure."

Deanna sighed. "Computer, locate Tasha Yar."

"Tasha Yar is on Holodeck One."

"Captain, may I borrow Data?"

"Of course."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha stumbled through the corridors blindly, not really aware of where she was going, only knowing she needed to be out of that room. She had thought she was heading for her quarters, but she ended up at the holodeck.

"Computer, initiate program Yar Seven."

Tasha stepped onto the holodeck, into a waterpark out of the past, but the bright, sunny weather and the cheerful people didn't help her mood. "Computer, delete characters." The park was instantly empty. "Computer, rain."

"That instruction runs counter to original parameters."

"Override original parameters."

A drenching shower enveloped the holodeck. Tasha threw herself down on the concrete and cried, her tears mixing with the rain. It was there that Deanna and Data found her.

"Tasha?" Deanna knelt beside her friend.

"I only had five real friends when I was at the Academy. Why did I have to lose two of them at once?"

Deanna was keenly aware that two of the remaining three were standing there on that holodeck. She'd ask about the identity of the third later. For now, she just hugged her. "I don't know. I know it isn't fair."

Data had crouched down behind her as well, but, as he was wont to do, asked a question that might not have been entirely appropriate. "Why have you altered the parameters of this program?"

"It didn't feel right. Everyone around me was so happy, the weather was so perfect - and I feel like nothing will ever be okay again."

"It'll get better," Deanna assured her. "It may take a while, but it'll get better."

But Data wasn't done asking questions. "Why did you not simply change to a more appropriate environment?"

"Data -" Deanna began, but Tasha cut her off.

"No, it's okay. The truth is, this was the only place on my mind. I couldn't think of another setting. Tom and I created this together when we were at the academy. He said he wanted to teach me something about entertainment in the early 21st century." She giggled through her tears. "I think he really just wanted to entertain me. He had just learned about Eva."

"Tom knew about Eva?" Deanna interrupted despite herself.

"I told him at Christmas our third year - right after Kathleen had her baby, remember? I was so upset when the Admiral said premature babies don't die anymore, I ran out of the house without a coat. He ran after me and got the story out of me."

"I do remember him asking where you went, and you two came in a few minutes later. I guess I just assumed you'd forgotten something outside. The previous few hours had been a little crazy."

"We were hoping people would think that way. I didn't want to have to tell everyone, and he understood. You know, everyone thought he was so cocky and tough. I know I did at first. But when it came down to it, he was as kind and loving as anyone I've ever known." To Data's complete shock, she suddenly burst into tears and threw herself into him. "Oh, God. Why did he have to die? Things were finally starting to go right for him again."

Even as he held her and rubbed her back, he sent a puzzled glance at Deanna, uncertain as to how to handle his girlfriend's abrupt mood swings. She shook her head and mouthed _later_. Fortunately, having become familiar with the human tendency to mouth things they didn't want others to hear, he had learned to read lips. So for now, he just held Tasha as she cried, her tears mixing with the holographic rain.

xxxxxxxxx

"I do not understand her behavior."

Data and Deanna were sitting in the common area of his quarters. Tasha had sobbed herself to exhaustion and was sleeping in the other room.

"Data, grief isn't always rational. Right now she's trying to sort out what she's feeling. The way she's behaving is normal for someone who's suffered a loss of this magnitude. She's looking back on things and times she enjoyed and laughing, and then she's laughing to keep from crying, and then it really hits her that the people she shared those times with are gone, and she can't keep pretending. Data, have you ever heard of the five stages of grief?"

"I do not believe so, Counselor."

"Okay. Well, the first thing you have to understand is that these stages don't happen in a perfectly orderly way. She may get stuck on one, or skip one, or go back to one she appeared to be past. With that in mind: the first stage is denial. She may try to pretend this didn't really happen. If she seems to be fine all of a sudden, that's probably why. She may also talk about them in present tense - basically, anything but acknowledge that they're actually gone. In that case, what you need to do is refrain from reminding her of the truth of the situation. Remember, she knows in the back of her mind what really happened. This is just her way of trying to avoid feeling the pain she's in.

"The second stage is anger, which you're likely to be the unfortunate target of, since you're so close to her. She may lash out at you or at anyone else around. Just remember, she's not really angry at you. She's angry that her friends were taken away, and anyone who crosses her path just becomes an outlet. If she does yell at you, don't yell back and don't try to talk her down.

"The next one is bargaining. Even though it's too late to do anything, she may try to make some sort of deal with the world. This may also take the form of 'what ifs.' She'll come up with all these scenarios of how she could prevent it if she were to be given one more chance. Like denial, your job is just to listen and not correct her or remind her how futile it is.

"The next one, and the hardest to deal with is depression. Now, she may become sad at any point during the grieving process. Depression is a whole new level of that. It's more than bursting into tears. She may feel like there's no point in doing nothing, be so consumed by her grief that she won't or can't do anything but be sad. In that case, what's most important is to be with her and take care of her. Don't try to pull her out of it, but do provide comfort as much as you can."

"That one I am familiar with. She experienced it after the death of her sister."

"Do whatever you did then. Now the fifth and final stage is acceptance. This doesn't mean that everything's okay - she'll never really be okay with this loss, and that's perfectly normal. What it means is that she's moved past it. She's able to start living her life again, and it isn't constantly on her mind. Once she gets to this point, she's unlikely to go back to any other stage."

"I appreciate your attempts to help me."

"And I appreciate your attempts to help Tasha. Now, she's off for the next few days, Captain's orders. Just - take care of her."

"I will, Counselor. Are you well?" For he had noticed Deanna's dark eyes glistening with tears.

Deanna wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I was never as close to Tom as Tasha was, even when we were dating. But, well, we were dating."

The first thing that sprang to Data's mind was to make a comparison to an event he recalled, but everything Deanna had just told him suggested that would not be the wisest course of action. Instead, he reached out and rather awkwardly patted her on the back. She managed a sad smile.

"You are sweet, Data. Tasha's lucky to have you."

xxxxxxxxx

On the other side of the galaxy, seventy thousand light-years away, Tom Paris, now _Lieutenant_ Tom Paris, breathed a soft sigh as he got to his feet, prepared to join his new friend Ensign Harry Kim for lunch. He couldn't help thinking that Harry was not the friend he was supposed to be meeting.

"Looks like we're gonna miss our lunch date," he said softly, as if the woman to whom he was speaking could hear him. "You think we can reschedule for seventy years from now?"

He didn't blame Captain Janeway for destroying the array that had brought them to the Delta Quadrant and could have sent them home, not when it meant saving an alien civilization. And especially not when she'd just made him her chief pilot and given him the pips now on his collar. But the idea of never seeing his family again was painful. He knew he saw the same pain reflected in the eyes of all 140-odd crewmembers of Voyager's crew, now combined with that of the Maquis ship they were pursuing, except of course for the two Vulcans onboard.

Now that was an adventure waiting to be had. He didn't have a problem - or much contact at all, really - with Ensign Vorik down in Engineering. But Tuvok, Second Officer and Chief of Security, was a different story. It was hard to tell with Vulcans, but during their brief acquaintance in the Maquis cell he now knew the Vulcan had been spying on, he'd gotten the sense that Tuvok didn't entirely trust him. So now he had a First Officer who thought him a traitor and a Second Officer who didn't trust him. Not to mention a Klingon woman in engineering who he thought had a desire to rip out his heart, and a few dozen ex-Maquis whose sentiments mirrored that of the now Commander and First Officer Chakotay. Especially the woman he had had a supposedly secret relationship with. Like anyone couldn't tell there was something between Chakotay and Seska. He was pretty sure the Bajoran woman hated him even more than Chakotay did.

At least he had Harry. Picture-of-naivete, golden boy, perfect Starfleet Ensign Harry.

He didn't know what he would have done without Harry.

**Just a few mandatory heads-ups. First of all, **_**Voyager**_** was extremely fond of alternate future plots. So for anyone not familiar with the series, if a particular chapter seems to be too depressing, or to have skipped a large portion of time, or just not to fit in with continuity at all, it's probably an alternate future. Secondly, for anyone not familiar with me, I update when the chapter is done, so there is no predictable pattern.**

**The title of the story is a quote from the **_**Voyager **_**series finale.**

**Data and Will's past histories with Janeway come from **_**Mosaic**_**; Picard's is from **_**The Buried Age.**_

**Please review.**


	2. Chapter Two: Empty Spaces

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Two: Empty Spaces**_

_Tasha climbed to her feet, aware that she was standing on the ceiling of the shuttle. The crumpled figure of Tom Paris lay nearby._

_"You all right?" she asked._

_He didn't answer._

_"Tom? Tom, answer me!"_

_She reached out, feeling for a pulse but feeling none. "No! Come on, Tom! You have to live."_

_She rolled him onto his back and looked down on his face, but it wasn't his face anymore. It was darker, the features different, distinctly Vulcan. The face of her mentor. The body of her mentor. The dead body._

_"NO!"_

She jerked awake, tears pouring down her face. Shaking, she drew a deep breath.

_It was just a dream_, she reminded herself, but another, deeper pain pierced her when she remembered that while the specific instance may have been a dream, the substance was not. Dead - both of them dead -

She rolled over, sobbing, reaching for Data to find only empty air. She recalled belatedly that this was his day on the graveyard shift, and she didn't think Captain Picard would be thrilled with her calling the bridge on a personal matter (and it would have been silly to think he wouldn't find out). But she needed to talk to someone. Someone who might understand the pain she felt at losing a parent -

It hit her. "Yar to La Forge."

"La Forge here." He sounded surprisingly alert.

"Did I wake you?"

"No. I haven't been able to sleep yet. Got too much on my mind."

"Do - do you think you could come up here for awhile?"

"Sure. Are you okay?"

"Not really," she admitted.

"I'll be up in a few minutes."

Geordi was greeted at the door by Tasha, eyes red, face streaked with tears. Almost as soon as he was in, he opened his arms and she fell into them. Geordi could feel her body trembling, shuddering with every sob.

Tasha clung to Geordi like an anchor, the only solid thing in a rapidly spinning world. She wasn't aware of the passage of time, wasn't ever really aware that she was crying, was only aware of him and herself. After an indeterminate amount of time, she pulled herself together and stepped back a little.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I called you up here to talk and instead I end up crying on you without ever saying a word."

"Hey, it's okay. I know it isn't easy."

"That's why I called you, you know. You probably have some idea of what I'm dealing with. I mean, I should, but I don't." She stared into space, not really talking to him anymore. "I was only five when my parents died. The way a child reacts, and the way an adult reacts, are two different things."

"I know."

"How could you -?"

"After my mom - I talked to Deanna for awhile. She told me about her dad, and I could just tell it wasn't the same." He yawned suddenly. "Sorry."

"Are _you_ okay?" she asked. "You said you hadn't been sleeping."

"Tasha - remember about five months ago, when the captain started shifting through time?"

She shuddered. What he had told them when he had finally stabilized in time still haunted her. "How could I forget?"

"Specifically, do you remember what he told _me_?"

She surprised both of them by laughing. "How could I forget _that_? He told you you'd get married to Leah Brahms and you were so excited Data and I had to forcibly restrain you from calling her to propose on the spot!"

"Because she was married."

"Right - wait. _Was_ married?"

"Her - her husband was on _Voyager_ too. I didn't realize at first, since she doesn't use his name, but yesterday she called me, crying. She's a mess. I mean, they had kids, you know?"

"I didn't."

"She was actually pregnant when she came aboard that time, though she told me later she didn't know yet then. So little George's three, and she's five months pregnant now."

"That must be rough."

"That's what I said. But she said no one else would really listen to her talk. Seems like she had a lot of fair-weather friends."

"I think tonight's episode proves you're not one of them."

"I just don't know what to do. I still have feelings for her, I have for years, but how can I tell her now? And how do I deal with her sadness when some tiny, awful part of me wants to be glad she's on the market again. Even if it means her kids growing up without their father. What does that make me?"

"What did you say to her when she called?"

"That I was sorry. And then I let her talk. You didn't think I'd -"

"No, I didn't. I just wanted you to take that into account. It's human to have those thoughts. What's important is that you didn't act on them. And you didn't. And I know you won't. In time, once she starts to recover, things might happen. In the meantime, she has a friend to lean on. One who won't let his personal feelings get in the way."

"How do you know?"

"Tell me the truth. How long did it take you to get over me?"

"Honestly? I got over you the day I fell in love with Leah Brahms."

"Which was when?"

"When she came aboard the ship and finally stopped being mad at me."

"But Data's near-death after the Iconian probe was before that."

"I suppose it was. But -"

"And Data's presumed death when Fajo kidnapped him was before that."

"Yeah, so?"

"And both times, you were there for me, taking care of me. Not trying to take advantage of Data's being gone, just being the friend I needed."

"It never even occurred to me."

"I assumed not, since you were busy dealing with your own grief. But you did it anyway, just instinctively."

"Look, Tasha, I'm sorry. You called me up here to help you and I ended up dragging you into my problems instead."

"Believe it or not, helping you helped me."

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?"

xxxxxxxxx

"What are you doing?" Tasha asked her daughter. For the previous five minutes, Lal had been playing with a small object that Tasha couldn't see well enough to identify.

"Oh. Just - thinking." She placed the item where Tasha could see it, and she realized it was a tiny model of _Voyager_. "It's hard - I mean, I remember Wolf 359, but a whole ship just gone? For apparently no reason at all?"

"Two ships," Tasha said quietly.

"You mean the Maquis ship?" Lal looked taken aback.

"They're people too, Lal."

"But they kill -"

Tasha couldn't help a half smile. Lal was very mature most of the time, but every once in a while she said something childlike enough to remind Tasha that she was really less than five years old. "I'm not saying I agree with their methods. But I understand where they're coming from, suddenly being told that their homes don't belong to them anymore. And the Cardassians are taking advantage of Starfleet's paranoia on the subject to attack the colonists, knowing we won't fight back for fear of restarting the war. They talk about the Maquis killing them, but they neglect to mention how many colonists the Cardassians kill."

"Why does it all need to be so complicated? Why can't they just agree to let the people have their planets in exchange for something?"

"Lal, I believe your question is one that has plagued diplomats for centuries. The simple answer is, people are greedy. They won't compromise because it means giving up something they'd rather have."

"But that's silly."

"Lal, I do believe you've realized what has eluded generations of politicians."

xxxxxxxxx

Joseph Carey stared out the window in the mess hall, not aware of the man standing behind him until he spoke. "Mind if I join you?"

"Huh?" He turned to see the man, the only one of his short, spotted, Delta-quadrant native species they'd ever met, standing behind him. He wondered if all members of the species were so - jovial. "Oh, sure, Neelix."

"You look lonely."

"Just thinking about my family."

"With the look in your eyes, you must love them very much."

"I do." He sighed. "You know, when my first son was born, I took a three-month leave from her eighth month of pregnancy until the baby was two months old. I told her I was going to be at her side when the baby was born, and I was. They were more important to me than anything, even my job - especially my job. Now she's pregnant again, and I won't get to be there for this one."

"Tell me about them," Neelix pressed. "What are their names?"

"Her name is Leah." The way he said her very name confirmed how much in love with her he was. "His name is George. She insisted on naming him after a friend of hers - totally denied it when I told her he was madly in love with her. Her labor was very hard, I almost lost both of them, and I decided that after that, if she wanted to call him George, we'd call him George."

"You're worried about her friend, aren't you?"

"To some degree, yes. But frankly, I have to accept that I may never see her again, and I'm more worried she'll end up with someone who isn't like him. I'd rather she go out with Geordi La Forge than someone who just wants his picture in the paper. At least he respects her - as a person, not as _Leah Brahms_."

"Is she famous, then?"

"She's a top scientist. She designed this ship." He sighed. "You know, that makes it bearable sometimes. Every time I look at this engine, I look at her. Every time I touch it, it's her."

"That's a very - interesting sentiment."

"She said it, I didn't. The first time I had an extended mission away from her. This was before we had kids, we'd only been married eight months and then we had to spend fifteen months apart. A month in, I told her over the comm how much I missed her, and she told me that I was with her as long as I was with the ship - that one was a _Galaxy_-class, the first model she had a major part in designing."

"I'm sure she said the same this time."

He shook his head sadly. "I was only supposed to be gone for three weeks. Ever since George was born, I've kept my missions short so I can spend time with them." His eyes shone with tears. "I never really said goodbye to her."

"Unless I'm very much mistaken about our Captain, you'll be home in time to say hello to her instead."

He gave the furry man a watery smile. "Thank you, Neelix."

**Not all my chapters will bounce between the Alpha Quadrant and **_**Voyager**_**, but it's kind of the way it works for these first few chapters which are mostly exposition. Once we get deeper into the story, the chapters will be more focused.**

**I know some Geordi/Leah shippers may be disappointed about how I got rid of Leah's husband, since he's still alive, but, well, if you're a Voyager fan you'll know how things turn out in the end, and if not, you'll know when I get there. As for what Joe says Leah told him, it isn't that far of a stretch from my perspective to think that she recorded that conversation and so when Geordi created a version of her, that record was part of it.  
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**Please review. I've been getting high traffic, alert notices, even favorite notices, so I know you guys like it, but I'd like you to tell me in detail what you think!**


	3. Chapter Three: The Investigation

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Three: The Investigation  
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"How is it possible," Picard asked irately, "that the Maquis knew we were going to be there? We didn't send a single message about our intentions off this ship, but there's no way that was a coincidence."

What was supposed to have been a simple mission had ended in disaster. They'd been trying to intercept a Maquis ship. Instead, five Maquis ships had intercepted them. Although all five combined made up less than half of the size of the _Enterprise_, they had put their numbers to good use. They had flown a complex enough pattern that it had been nearly impossible to keep track of all five at once, and the damaged _Enterprise_ had had to retreat. They had luckily not been pursued by the Maquis, but they had lost five crewmembers, with another seventeen seriously injured, and the amount of damage that had been inflicted would take several weeks to repair.

"I have a thought, Captain," Tasha said softly, "but you're not going to like it."

"Say it anyway. I need to know how this may have happened."

"Well, Captain, in our attempts to combat the Maquis we've placed operatives inside their cells. Might it be possible they've done the same to us?"

"I don't see how that could happen," Will frowned. "It isn't as easy to get into Starfleet as it is to get into the Maquis."

"But Starfleet officers have defected to the Maquis," Tasha pointed out. "Couldn't they have told a potential defector to keep the uniform on and his or her eyes open?"

"She has a point," Data said.

Picard sighed, putting his head in his hand. "That means that anyone who knew about our plan in enough advance is suspect."

"Captain, that list comprises one hundred and twenty-three known personnel, to say nothing of anyone who might have found out accidentally. That includes the entire security staff -"

"Thank you, Mr. Data. I'm well aware of the scope of this situation."

"Oh." Data looked faintly abashed. "Of course, sir."

"I think we may have to call in backup."

"Uh, Captain, if I may," Will said softly, "the last time you decided to call in backup to investigate a potential traitor -"

"Yes, yes, I know, Number One. No one hopes more than I that that won't happen again. But this ship cannot function if we have a security leak."

Tasha nodded. "Agreed."

xxxxxxxxx

Fortunately for all of them, Admiral Ross did not display the same obsessive tendencies as Satie had. He was eager to flush out the spy, but he clearly wasn't going to go on a witch-hunt in the process.

At the moment, he was talking to Tasha. "You say your entire security team knew about this?"

"We were anticipating boarding the other ship. I needed everyone fully aware of what was going on."

"How many people is that, Commander?"

"Total security compliment is fifty-nine, including Lieutenant Worf and myself."

"Commander, I hope you understand that until we have some idea what's going on, anyone who was privy to this information is suspect. That includes the entire senior staff."

"I understand, sir. Though I'd like to say for the record that every member of the senior staff has my utmost confidence."

"Your Captain said the same thing."

"Admiral, I think it's important to check with everyone, make sure they never discussed this with anyone. We never thought to make it confidential, there didn't seem to be a reason to, and I don't want the real spy being overlooked because we're busy investigating a list they're not on."

"Fair point. So who else knew officially?"

"The entire senior staff, of course. All three bridge shifts for the three days prior, I don't remember exactly who that was but it should be on the duty roster. Select members of pretty much every department remotely relevant. I think Data said it was a hundred and twenty something."

"Plus anyone they might have told."

"Which I'm hoping is a short list."

"So am I, Commander. So am I. Your report says you were able to take a prisoner?"

"A group of seven beamed over when we lost shields. Six beamed back, but there was a transporter problem and we were able to arrest the seventh before they got a chance to try again."

"Then we'll question him too."

xxxxxxxxx

"You wanted to see me, Admiral?" She could tell from his most subtle signals that this wouldn't be as pleasant as their last conversation.

"Yes, Commander. Sit down."

She obliged. "If I may be so bold, what's this about?"

"Commander, you do remember me saying that everyone with knowledge of the plan was suspect? Including you?"

"You've already questioned me."

"Thank you, Commander, I was aware of that. I've had some interesting discussions with a few members of your crew regarding your feelings towards the Maquis."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Is it or is it not true that you've expressed sympathetic thoughts towards them?"

"I have said that I am sympathetic to their reasons, if not their methods, yes."

"I have it on the word of an Ensign Loretta McIntyre that following a shuttle crash you cooperated with a group of Maquis."

"I did what was necessary to survive long enough to be rescued."

"She also said that you engaged in a long personal conversation with one of them."

_What harm could it do now?_ "The person of whom you speak is the now-deceased Lieutenant Tuvok. He was a Starfleet operative."

"How would you know that?"

"He confided in me. Admiral, we both know that the families of undercover operatives are always told. The man to whom I spoke has always been like a father to me."

"You also conducted a private conversation with Tom Paris after he was arrested."

"If you look into it, you'll find that Tom and I share - shared - a personal connection as well as a common ancestry."

"You have an explanation for everything, don't you?"

"Since everything I've said is the truth, I should think so."

"Commander, can you understand how this looks from my end?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"I want it to be clear that you're not being charged with anything. However, you are a likely suspect in this case. With that in mind, I'm temporarily relieving you of duty and confining you to quarters for the duration of this investigation. If, at the end of the investigation, there is no evidence of wrongdoing on your part, this incident will be removed from your record and it will be as though none of it ever happened."

_Not in people's minds_, she wanted to say, but a line from Picard's favorite author jumped to mind. _The lady doth protest too much, methinks. _To argue would only serve to solidify a case against her, a case that was now just a whisper of doubt. So she nodded slowly.

xxxxxxxxx

"You don't think I did it, do you?"

Data being Data, he had found the loophole in her confinement. She wasn't allowed to leave, but there was nothing in the rules about others not being able to enter. The entire senior staff was assembled in the Second Officer and Head of Security's quarters, sitting around the poker table. But Tasha couldn't forget the circumstances.

Everyone was momentarily shocked into silence. It was Deanna who spoke first. "Of course not. I sense no deceit from you, and anyway, I know you too well. Regardless of your beliefs, you'd never put this ship or especially its crew in danger."

This was met by murmurs of assent from the group, and Worf growled almost threateningly. "Your personal feelings are none of Starfleet's business. Why should anyone have revealed them to the Admiral?"

"He probably asked for anything that might be relevant," Tasha said passively. She might be angry about being confined, but she didn't blame the officers under her command.

"I promise you," Will said firmly, "that we'll expose whoever it is and get you cleared."

xxxxxxxxx

Data strode purposefully down the hall. He knew it wasn't his place, but he _had_ to talk to the prisoner. Two days of trying to find evidence to clear Tasha of the crime hadn't worked. He knew that the prisoner had already been questioned, and he didn't know exactly what he wanted to accomplish, but he didn't want Tasha just to be released on no proof of guilt, because he knew that if they didn't prove she was innocent, there would still be doubt in people's minds.

He stopped when he heard the prisoner talking to his guard. He had just intended to wait for a break in the conversation, but as he heard what they said, his tricorder was instantly in his hand. It looked like he would get what he came for, and he'd never have to say a word.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha was in more than a little trouble. She couldn't explain why the ship's internal sensors had registered her leaving her quarters when she knew she hadn't. Unfortunately, she didn't have an alibi. Data had been working.

"If you didn't leave your quarters," the Admiral demanded, "then why do the sensors say you did? And that you removed a phaser from a storage locker?"

"I don't know."

"Not good enough."

"It's all I have."

"Then let me offer another explanation. You left your quarters, thinking you wouldn't be caught -"

"That's not the way it happened!"

The doorbell rang, and Ross sighed. "Come in."

Data stepped through the door. "Admiral."

"Mr. Data, Commander Yar had been accused of violating her confinement."

"She did not. I can prove it."

Two identical looks of shock met him.

"I recorded this conversation from outside of the brig approximately two point one minutes ago." He began linking the tricorder into the ship's computer. A man's voice sounded. The prisoner's voice.

_"...don't suspect you're the one who told us?"_

_"Who, me?" A woman's voice, this time. "They don't suspect a thing. They're too busy keeping an eye on my commanding officer?"_

_"They think your CO did it?"_

_"Thanks to some carefully placed information I gave the Admiral when he questioned her. It's all true, she really is a sympathizer, but she'd never go beyond saying she understands our cause. She's too Starfleet. Perfect for us. Enough sympathy to come off suspicious, but not someone we'd ever possibly be able to use."_

Ross glanced over at Tasha, somewhat apologetically. It was pretty clear now that she'd been set up.

_"So what happens now?"_

_"I rigged internal sensors to show that she left her quarters. Now I'm going to unlock this with the Commander's authorization. This chip has that same authorization. Now, this phaser I got out of a storage locker."_

_"Her authorization?"_

_"Of course. Once you're out, I'll give you the phaser, and you stun me. Then use the chip to steal a shuttle and get out."_

_"What would I do without you?"_

The recording cut off. Ross was the first to speak. "Commander Data, do you know who the woman was?"

"Ensign Loretta McIntyre, of Security."

"Computer, locate Ensign McIntyre."

"_Ensign McIntyre is in the holding cell bay_."

"Is there anyone else there?"

"_Affirmative_."

"Commander Yar, would you do the honors?"

She couldn't suppress a small smile. "Computer, lock down the bay doors, authorization Yar Theta Nine-Two-Five and deactivate manual override. Do not release without the command codes belonging to Lieutenant Commander Data."

"_Lieutenant Commander Data, please confirm._"

"Confirming. Authorization Kappa Alpha Four-Six-Zero-One-Seven-Zero-Four."

"_Accepted_."

"You're with me," the Admiral said, "both of you."

xxxxxxxxx

Data unlocked the door and the prisoner almost tumbled through the door he'd clearly been struggling to open. Data and Tasha grabbed him instantly, and Data restrained him while Tasha relieved him of the stolen phaser and turned it on the Security Ensign standing a few paces back from the door.

"Ensign Loretta McIntyre," the Admiral declared, "you're under arrest for treason and obstruction of justice."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I beg to differ, Ensign," Data said over the man's head. "Five point three minutes ago I recorded a conversation between you and our prisoner in which you freely admitted to telling the Maquis about our intended raid and to framing Commander Yar for the crime."

"Do you deny this, Ensign?" The Admiral asked sharply.

"You know what? No. No, I don't. What Starfleet is doing in the Demilitarized Zone is wrong. You know that, Commander," she added to Tasha, "I've heard your perspective."

"That doesn't mean that what the Maquis are doing is right!" she countered sharply. "What about the five people killed last week? What about the seventeen still in Sickbay? Are their lives worth less than the lives of the colonists?"

Loretta only glared at her, saying nothing.

"Confine them," the Admiral ordered. Both prisoners were walked into holding cells, and the forcefields were activated.

xxxxxxxxx

"Commander, I want to apologize again for the events of the last few days."

"You've already apologized, Admiral, and I've already accepted."

"In that case, allow me to offer some advice. Your opinions are your own, and I've no right to tell you what to think. However, I'd be more careful about who hears your thoughts. If another incident like this happens, I don't want someone like McIntyre able to pin it on you."

"I appreciate that, Admiral."

"Now that said, I've been reviewing the mission specs and the logs of the incident. Did you come up with the original plan for the strike?"

"I did."

"And you were at tactical during the ambush?"

"Yes."

He shook his head in amazement. "Impressive, Commander. Very impressive. Commander, would you ever consider leaving the _Enterprise_?"

"Leave the _Enterprise_?" she repeated in shock. "Why?"

"Have you ever heard of the Dominion?"

"No." Unbeknownst to Tasha, there would come a time in the not too distant future when she would long for this ignorance. "Who are they?"

"A Gamma Quadrant alliance that the Federation has recently come into contact with. Earlier this year, they abducted several Federation officers and plugged them into an elaborate simulation where the Federation allied with the Dominion."

"To see what they would do," Tasha finished.

"Exactly. More recently, a combined force of the respective secret services of Romulus and Cardassia attempted an attack on a Dominion stronghold."

"Why?"

"Preventative measures, I presume. I don't always understand how those sorts of people work. It didn't succeed anyway. Both fleets were annihilated."

Tasha barely kept her composure. "Annihilated?"

"So you see, if they decide to attack us, we could find ourselves in real trouble. Good tactical strategy could make all the difference. I could offer you a position at tactical headquarters, a leadership position even. Or if you'd rather be on the frontlines, we have several ships about to be launched that could use a strong first officer. If things keep going the way they have been, you could have your own ship in a year."

Tasha lost all battles to keep her composure this time. For a long moment, she stared at the Admiral, trying to process what he'd just said. But reason took over quickly, and she prepared to shock him as much as he'd just shocked her.

"Admiral, I appreciate your offer, truly I do, and I appreciate your confidence in me. I'd be willing to collaborate on any strategical projects, but I'll be doing it from here. If we ever get into the sort of situation we all hope we'll never deal with, if it really gets bad, I'll reconsider your offer, but until then, this is where I belong. This is my ship, and these are my people. I can't just leave because someone made me a better offer."

He sighed. "You've been spending too much time around Commander Riker."

"Maybe so, sir. But my answer stands nonetheless."

"So does my offer, Commander. If you ever change your mind, just give me a call and I'll find something for you."

"Thank you, Admiral."

**This idea came from a reviewer. Can't remember who it was, but thank you whoever you are.**

**For anyone who doesn't do DS9, yes, we'll be seeing more of the Dominion in later chapters.**

**Please review. I've had only two reviews per chapter so far, from the same people. I know more than two people are reading and enjoying this, so say something! As anyone who's reviewed me before knows, I'll respond to any and all signed reviews, and I really do read them and take suggestions into account.  
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	4. Chapter Four: The Next Step

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Four: The Next Step**_

"Do you think he suspects?" Will asked almost anxiously.

"I thought you had more confidence in me than that. You know, though, that he'll be suspicious the second we bring him in."

"Yes, well, by then it'll be too late." Will didn't seem too worried.

"_D'Sora to Yar._"

"Go ahead."

"_We're in position._"

Tasha nodded. "Proceed with the mission."

They sat in silence for a few minutes until Tasha's combadge crackled again. "_D'Sora to Yar. We have him confined._"

"Hold down the fort. We'll meet you there." She heard Will behind her, alerting the rest of the crew that the first stage of their mission was complete. They hurried down the hall and stepped into the all-important room.

The holodeck had been programmed to resemble an old sailing ship, and all of them were dressed in costumes to match. Tasha and Will were the last to arrive, having remained behind in case something happened. As soon as they arrived, Picard nodded.

"All assembled?"

"Yes, sir!" everyone yelled.

"Bring out the prisoner!" Will shouted. Worf was dragged onto the deck in chains.

"Mr. Worf, I always knew this day would come," the Captain said solemnly. "Are you prepared to face the charges?"

"Answer him!" Deanna snapped when Worf said nothing.

"I am prepared," the Klingon said resignedly.

Riker began to read off a piece of paper he held. "We, the officers and crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise, being of sound mind and judgment, hereby make the following charges against Lieutenant Worf. One. That he did knowingly and willfully perform above and beyond the call of duty on countless occasions. Two. Most seriously, that he has earned the admiration and respect of the entire crew."

"Mr. Worf," and here Picard cracked a smile, "I hereby promote you to the rank of Lieutenant Commander, with all the rights and privileges thereto. And may God have mercy on your soul." The crowd burst into cheers. "Congratulations, Mr. Worf."

"Thank you, sir," Worf said formally.

"Extend the plank!" Riker yelled to cheers. "Lower the badge of office."

An officer's hat was dangled over the end of the plank. Worf began slowly, carefully inching towards it.

"He'll never make it," Tasha heard Will say. "No one ever has."

But Worf had other plans. With the precision learned by years of Klingon calisthenics, he jumped, grabbed the hat, and landed safely back on the plank. The crowd went wild.

"If there's one thing I've learned over the years," Picard commented, "it's never to underestimate a Klingon."

"Remove the plank!" Will shouted, a glint in his eye telling Tasha he was up to something. It didn't take long to figure out what. On command, the computer removed the plank - from the simulation. Worf plunged instantly into the water, drawing gales of laughter from the onlookers.

"Number One," Picard sighed resignedly, "that's _retract_ the plank, not _remove_ it."

"Of course, sir," Will laughed. "Sorry!"

Tasha was too busy watching Worf to really take into account what was happening next to her - at least until another blur fell off the ship, knocking Worf back into the water on its way. As they landed, Tasha realized the form was that of Beverly Crusher.

And Data was standing next to the railing, where the Doctor had been a moment ago.

xxxxxxxxx

"_La Forge to Yar._"

"Go ahead, Geordi," she answered absently, barely looking up from the "book" she was reading on her data PADD. She hoped it wasn't terribly important. Dealing with the destroyed observatory station had been physically and emotionally taxing, and she didn't want more on her plate.

"_Tasha, there's, uh, there's something I should tell you._"

Now she was all ears. "What's up?"

"_Well, you know how Data knocked the Doctor in the water trying to understand humor_?"

"Yeah?" She'd heard the whole story from Data after the fact.

"_Well, he's decided that he's hit a wall, basically. And as far as he's concerned, there's only one way to get past it._"

"And that is?" She had a feeling this was the crux of the issue.

"_The emotion chip._"

"Oh, God."

"_Yeah, well, Data's managed to debunk every concern I come up with. You know as well as I do that you can't really stop him -_"

"And I wouldn't if I could. Whatever I think, this is Data's choice."

"_I figured. Just wanted to let you know. Where are you?_"

"Ten-Forward."

"_I have a feeling that's our first destination. Just sit tight._"

"Why?"

She could almost hear Geordi's smile. "You'll see."

Yes, this would definitely be more interesting than _Number the Stars. _Annemarie Johansen could wait.

It seemed like an eternity, though it was really only a few minutes, before Geordi and Data walked in. Tasha's first thought was that Data looked incredibly normal. She had expected him to look - different. Changed, somehow.

She watched him trying the drink Guinan offered and couldn't help laughing when Data declared his pleasure at his hatred of it. But her laughter stopped suddenly when he turned, making eye contact with her.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Data began to walk, coming slowly to her table. He swallowed, and it struck her that while he'd displayed thoughts similar to many emotions, this was the first time she'd ever seen him do anything resembling nervous. Not that she blamed him. She was nervous too.

"You are," he said finally, "the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

"Data -" but she didn't know what else to say. What did someone say under these circumstances?

"I love you." His hand found hers, lifted it off the table, and he brought both of them to the side of her face. "I love you."

"Oh, Data. Data, I -"

She was cut off when he captured her mouth with hers. The kiss deepened, the most passionate kiss they had ever shared.

"What were you trying to tell me?" he asked after he'd finally let her breathe.

"I love you too."

He kissed her again, even deeper than the first. She forced herself, reluctantly, to pull away.

"Data, not here."

"What?"

"_Not here_. We shouldn't do this here. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Our quarters."

xxxxxxxxx

"That was - amazing," she whispered breathlessly.

"Indeed it was." His hands continued to caress her body. "I have never experienced such intense sensations before." His lips were almost on hers when -

"_Riker to Data_."

Data abruptly broke the embrace, and Tasha was treated to a sight she certainly enjoyed as he searched almost frantically on the floor for his combadge. He found it quickly and pressed it. "Data here."

"_Data, I want you and Geordi to go over to the observatory with the next away team. You're to scan the observatory for traces of trilithium._"

"Yes, sir. When and from where does the team depart?"

"_Twenty minutes, Transporter Room Two._"

"Understood, sir."

"_Riker out_."

"I wish we had more time."

"We do. Later. Now please, go get in the shower."

"Why?"

"Because seeing you stand there naked like that is making me want to do something I shouldn't."

And Data did something she would never forget.

He smiled at her.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha pulled on her freshly replicated pair of pants, laughing despite herself as she recycled the ones Data had accidentally torn. They had quickly discovered a new side to his emotions. In the past, Data had always been careful, in that precise, clinical way of his, to put her clothes in one place and his in another, aware of the fact that their uniforms were identical in all but size. However, passion had overridden precision and their clothes had ended up scattered all over the bedroom, and Data had managed to grab and don the wrong pair of pants, ripping them down the seam before he'd realized his mistake.

Even when Q had given Data his little "gift", Tasha had not realized what a nice laugh Data had. For the moment, the problems of the world might not exist as she explored every new facet of the man she loved. The way he clung to her, giving her five "one more" kisses, the way he pouted when she shooed him out the door. But the most amazing thing was, it was still _Data_. Just new aspects of Data.

Just as she finished dressing, the ship lurched and she tumbled to the deck. "Yar to Bridge. What's going on?"

"No time." Will's voice was short. "Meet me in Transporter Room One. Bring a phaser."

When he talked like that, it was serious. "I'm on my way."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha was more than a little confused as to why Soran, the observatory scientist, was firing at them. All they wanted to do was get him and their people off the station before the nearby sun went nova.

But that wasn't all. Geordi lay unconscious on the deck, and Data was cowering in a corner. Yes, something was definitely wrong.

"Data!" Will yelled. "See if you can get to Geordi."

"I - I cannot," he said in a trembling voice, and suddenly Tasha realized what was happening. For the first time in his life, Data was experiencing fear. And he had no clue how to process it.

"I'll try to get him," she whispered over Will's shoulder. But Soran got there first, and in an instant he and Geordi were gone.

"Enterprise_ to Riker. We need to get you out of there, but we only have three signals._"_  
><em>

"Transport those three, now!"

They materialized on the transporter pad, and as soon the transporter operator called to tell the Captain they were aboard, Tasha could feel the vibrations of the warp engines as they shot out of there.

Will strode off to the bridge, but Data remained frozen in place, sitting on the pad. Tasha turned to the transporter operator. "Could you step outside for a moment?"

The operator nodded wordlessly, and Tasha approached Data. "Hey, it's okay. We're back on the _Enterprise_ now."

He didn't move. "I know."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I - what I did was inexcusable. I was too afraid to help Geordi."

"Data, fear is a normal response to a dangerous situation."

"You did not look so afraid."

"Data, one of the things officers learn is how to deal with fear, how to work around it. But because you never had emotions, that was never necessary. You were thrown into a situation you weren't prepared for. No one blames you for being afraid."

"Geordi -"

"Wouldn't blame you if he were here, so give it a rest. Right now the best thing you can do is help us figure out where Soran might have gone."

He accepted her outstretched hand, not really needing to be helped up, but needing the symbolic gesture. "Then that is what I must do."

xxxxxxxxx

From what Tasha heard later, it hadn't turned out to be as easy as all that. He'd apparently had a minor breakdown in Stellar Cartography, and the Captain had had to snap him out of it. But, guilt-ridden or not, his work was as good as it ever was. They knew where to find the Klingon ship.

At least, they believed they had. But the problem with a cloaked ship was that they could have, for all they knew, been staring down empty space around Veridian Three.

And, Tasha realized quickly, there was more bad news. She'd been analyzing the attack Soran had made on the star near the observatory, and the results were grim. " Sir, according to my calculations, a solar probe launched from either the Klingon ship or the planet's surface will take eleven seconds to reach the sun. However, out an exact point of origin, it will take us between eight and fifteen seconds to lock our weapons onto it."

"That's a pretty big margin of error," Will sighed. "Much too big."

"Mr Data, how long before the ribbon arrives?" Picard asked.

"Approximately forty-seven minutes, sir."

The Captain all but hit the arm of his chair in frustration. "I've got to find some way to get to Soran."

"Klingon vessel decloaking directly ahead, sir," Tasha reported, instantly on alert. "They are hailing."

"On screen."

The faces of Lursa and B'Etor, a pair of Klingon sisters who had caused more than their fair share of trouble for the _Enterprise _crew. Lursa spoke fast. "Captain. What an unexpected pleasure."

"Lursa, It is very important that I speak with Soran."

"I'm afraid," she said silkily, "the Doctor is no longer aboard our ship."

If the Captain was perturbed by this, he didn't show it. "Then I will beam to his location."

B'Etor almost growled, "The Doctor values his privacy. He would be quite upset if an armed away team interrupted him."

Picard had an answer for that as well. "Then I will beam to your ship and you can transport me to Soran."

Tasha was ready to object, but Will beat her to it. "Captain, you can't trust them. For all you know they killed Geordi. They might kill you too."

"We did not harm your Engineer," Lursa informed them, and Tasha could see Data let out a sigh of unspeakable relief. "He's been our ...guest."

"Then return him!" Will demanded.

"In exchange," B'Etor asked, baring her teeth, "for what?"

"Me sir." Data offered, and Tasha opened her mouth to object. She didn't care how guilty he felt, she wasn't going to lose him. But the Captain had other plans as well.

"Me," Picard said calmly. "I will be your prisoner, but first you must beam me to the surface so I can speak with Soran."

"The Captain would make a much more valuable hostage." B'Etor appeared to be considering the offer.

But it was Lursa who officially agreed. "We'll consider it a prisoner exchange."

"Agreed." Picard keyed his comm. "Have Doctor Crusher meet me in transporter room three. You have the bridge, Number One. Natasha, you're with me in case they try anything."

xxxxxxxxx

It was when she saw Geordi that Tasha began to understand why, what seemed like a lifetime ago, Tom Paris had been so eager to join the Maquis in return for what they had done to her. Lursa had said he hadn't been hurt, but unharmed people generally did not look like the engineer did at this moment. Silently, she offered her old friend an apology.

Geordi's knees buckled as soon as the transporter let him go, and Tasha raced to his side, followed by Beverly and her medical team. Tasha took his hand in hers and pulled his head to rest in her lap, comforting him as he had done for her countless times in the years they had known each other. His body was damp with sweat and he was trembling from exhaustion and fear. His hand clamped onto hers as though letting go might mean returning to the Klingon ship.

"Shh, it's all right, I'm here," she whispered. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

Her voice reached Geordi through a haze. _Yes, of course it's going to be okay. It is if you say it is. You've never lied to me. I trust you. _But he couldn't make his mouth form the words. Right now, he desperately wanted to sleep, and he felt safe there in her arms. So he allowed the blackness that had been hovering at the edge of his mind to engulf him.

Tasha felt him go limp in her arms as he lost consciousness, and she looked up in alarm at Beverly, who was already scanning him. "It's nothing serious," the doctor assured her. "He's exhausted. He just needed to rest."

"What's wrong with him?"

"As far as I can tell, he's suffered multiple cardiac arrests in the last few hours."

"What? How?"

Beverly frowned. "According to my scan, he has some sort of nanoprobe attached to his heart. My guess is that it was used to induce heart attacks."

"Is he going to be all right?"

"I'll need to do microsurgery to remove the probe, but he won't have any permanent damage." She called for a stretcher, and Tasha continued to hold him until it arrived.

**A somewhat awkward place to break off, but the tone of this bit is about to change, and it had to be cut somewhere or it was going to be way too long for a single chapter.**

**The nanoprobe heart attack thing is a real concept that can be seen in deleted scenes from **_**Star Trek Generations**_** and in the novelization.**

**Hope you liked my version of the emotion chip installation. For anyone not familiar with my writing, there will be mentions of adult themes, as there were in this chapter, but they won't get much more explicit than they were in this chapter, which is why the story is T and not M.**

_**Number the Stars**_** is a real book, and a fabulous one, which I highly recommend. For what it's worth, every book I mention in any story, unless it's tied to canon (like Tom Paris' canon attachment to **_**20,000 Leagues Under the Sea**_**) will be one I know and love.**

**Please review. Still can't understand why I'm not getting more reviews. I really do write personal responses. And I also accept anonymous reviews, though of course I can't reply to those.**


	5. Chapter Five: End of the Road

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Five: End of the Road  
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Geordi bolted awake in a panic, gasping. Soran's voice still rang in his ears. _You have information and I need it - I've attached it to your left ventricle - did you know that you can stop the human heart for up to six minutes before the onset of brain damage? - It is very important that you tell me exactly what Captain Picard knows._

Half-remembering where he was, he fumbled blindly for his VISOR, only to suddenly feel it collide with his hand. He was stunned, but he was too grateful for this miracle to question it. He clicked it into place, and color - his version of color - flooded his formerly black world. As the images took shape, he realized what - or rather who - had been responsible for his VISOR appearing in midair.

"Data!"

"Are you all right?" The android's hand rested, comfortingly, on his arm. "You appear frightened."

He sighed. "It's going to take awhile to shake the memories of Soran, I'll give him that much."

"I am sorry I let you down. I have not been behaving like myself lately."

"No Data, you haven't." He smiled. "You've been behaving like a human."

Data smiled back.

"Seriously, I'm glad you were here."

"Tasha suggested that it might be prudent for me to be here in case you experienced an unfavorable reaction to your ordeal."

"Remind me to thank her later."

"I will."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha couldn't help laughing, albeit silently, when Data began a little chant about scanning for lifeforms. But her laughter evaporated in an instant when the Klingon ship fired, and was replaced with pure shock when their shields failed to repel the attack. The torpedo shook the whole ship and the conn officer fell to the deck. Deanna ran to him, but one look at her face told everyone on the bridge that he would never get up again.

"What happened?" Will asked.

They have found a way to penetrate our shields!" Tasha said shortly, her attention focused on a counterattack.

"Lock phasers and return fire!" Will ordered. "Deanna, take the helm. Get us out of orbit."

"Hull breach on decks thirty-one through thirty-five," Data reported. "Emergency force fields are holding."

"Mr. Worf, what do we know about that old Klingon ship?" Will asked. "Are there any weaknesses?"

"It is a Class D-twelve Bird of Prey. They were retired from service because of defective plasma coils."

"Plasma coils?" Will was thinking hard now. "Any way we can use that to our advantage?"

"I do not see how," Worf answered reluctantly. "The plasma coil is part of their cloaking device."

But Will was a step ahead of him. "Data, would a defective plasma coil be susceptible to some sort of ionic pulse?"

"Perhaps." Tasha could see the shift in Data as he became excited. "Yes! Yes, if we sent a low-level ionic pulse, it might reset the coil and trigger the cloaking device. Excellent idea, sir!"

"As their cloak begins to engage, their shields will drop." Tasha was instantly on the same wavelength as the other two.

"Well that's two seconds they'll be vulnerable," Will said in a voice that suggested he didn't particularly like that margin but didn't see another choice. "Mr. Data, lock on to their plasma coils."

"No problem," he all but sang, and despite the gravity of the situation Tasha only just refrained from laughing out loud.

Will turned to the tactical station. "Tasha, prepare a spread of photon torpedoes. We'll have to hit them the instant they begin to cloak."

"Acknowledged."

"We're getting one shot at this." Will only confirmed what Tasha already knew. "Target their primary reactor."

"I have accessed their coil frequency," Data reported. "Initiating ionic pulse."

"Make it quick!" Will yelled. As if on cue, something exploded.

"Now!" Data shouted, and Tasha launched a torpedo. Just as the ship began to fade, the missile hit its target and the Klingon ship vanished in a fireball.

"Yes!" Data crowed triumphantly. The rest of the bridge staff was more reserved but no less grateful that their plan had worked. Unfortunately, they realized quickly that it had not been soon enough.

"La Forge to Bridge." Geordi's slightly panicked voice came through the comm. "I've got a problem down here. The magnetic interlocks have been ruptured. I -" he cut off abruptly, and they could hear him shouting something at the Engineering staff. Everyone on the bridge shared glances of confusion and concern.

Geordi came back on the line moments later. "Bridge, we have a new problem. We're five minutes from a warp core breach. There's nothing I can do. Ejection systems are offline."

Tasha drew a sharp breath, and Data got a look in his eye that she was worried meant he was about to panic. But Will stepped in and took control of the situation before he could. "Deanna, evacuate everyone to the saucer section. Mr. Data, prepare to separate the ship."

It seemed an endless five minutes. No one said a word until they absolutely had to, until finally Will gave voice to what was on all their minds. "The core breach is accelerating. We've go to get out of here."

As if on cue, Geordi's voice came through the comm. "That's it, bridge. We're all out."

"One minute to warp core breach." Data reported.

"Begin separation sequence," Will ordered. "Full impulse power once we're clear. Warp core is going critical."

"Separation complete," Data announced.

"Engaging impulse engines." Deanna barely waited for Data to stop speaking.

"Core breach in progress," Data said soberly. They all knew what that meant. The heart of their beloved ship would soon be gone forever.

But their nostalgia was forgotten as a far more serious problem presented itself. They had gotten far enough from the stardrive section not to be caught in the explosion, but they had cut their timing too close and they were not clear of the shockwave emanating from the blast. It threw the saucer out of orbit, and they all realized at once that they were caught in the planet's gravity.

Data's response pretty much summed up what everyone on the bridge was thinking. "Oh, shit!"

It was certainly the first time she'd ever heard Data use _that_ turn of phrase. Had the situation been less dire, she might have laughed. But there was no time to laugh, and this wasn't exactly a laughable situation.

Data quickly went back into logical mode. "I have rerouted auxiliary power to the lateral thrusters. I'm attempting to level our descent."

"All hands," Will said into the comm, "brace for impact."

The ship rocked and pitched as it entered the atmosphere and began to skim the ground. Despite her best efforts, Tasha was thrown over the console and the Captain's chair, landing on the main floor of the bridge. As she sat up, she became aware that something - or rather, some_one_ - was wrapped around her, keeping her from further harm, protecting her head.

"Data," she whispered incredulously.

He heard her somehow, despite the background noise. "I have you. You are safe."

"I know, Data. I know."

The ship shuddered to a halt. The bridge crew glanced around at each other.

"Is everyone okay?" Will asked.

"I think so," Tasha replied, disengaging herself from Data. She could see that Worf and Deanna were getting to their feet as well. "Yar to La Forge."

The dull beep that indicated no connection met her. She tried again, with the same response.

"Communications must be down," Will sighed. "We need to set up a command post outside. Then we need to start searching the ship, account for everyone -"

But he never finished his sentence. At that moment, the sky went dark. For an instant, they were perplexed. Then they realized what had happened.

"My God," Deanna whispered. "He's actually done it."

The weight of it hit them all. It didn't matter what they did now. They would all be dead in a few minutes.

Tasha's hand met Data's, and he caught her eyes. She broke the silence first. "Data, if I have to die, there's no one I'd rather be with."

"I feel the same way. And in a way, I am relieved. I had expected that on some occasion I would lose you, and then, as I promised, I would have to continue my life without you. And that thought caused me great distress."

"I love you, Data."

"I love you too."

Their lips met, and they shared a passionate kiss for what they both knew to be the last time. They held each other, trying to focus on each other and not on what was going on around them. Their world burst into flame, and then there was nothing.

xxxxxxxxx

The ship shuddered to a halt. The bridge crew glanced around at each other.

"Is everyone okay?" Will asked.

"I think so," Tasha replied, disengaging herself from Data. She could see that Worf and Deanna were getting to their feet as well. "Yar to La Forge."

The dull beep that indicated no connection met her. She tried again, with the same response.

"Communications must be down," Will sighed. "We need to set up a command post outside. Then we need to start searching the ship, account for everyone. Beverly," he added to the woman who had just stepped out of the ready room, "we'll need to establish a temporary sickbay outside as well."

"Will, what about the Captain?" Tasha asked. "Now that we're through the atmosphere, we should be able to scan for him and beam him out."

Will quickly checked her theory, but he was shaking his head. "Sensors are down, and even if we could find him we don't have transporters."

"Maybe we do," she countered. "We don't have main systems, but no one's checked the extent of damage to the shuttlebays yet."

"Yes." Will nodded slowly. "It could work. Get down to the main shuttlebay. Data, go with her. If you find Soran and the Captain, beam both of them aboard and put Soran under arrest." They left the bridge just as he began laying out a search pattern.

It took, in Tasha's opinion, far too long to get down to the shuttlebay through the Jeffries tubes. She'd never been so glad to see anything as she was to see the shuttlebay, and to realize that the shuttle closest to them was intact. Instantly, they activated the shuttle.

"Computer, scan planet for lifesigns more than twenty meters from the external hull of the ship.," Data ordered.

"_Two lifesigns detected, one very faint._"

Tasha's eyes went wide. What if that one was the Captain? "Data, run to sickbay and get a doctor down here."

"Why should I -"

"Because I have field medic training and you can move faster than I can. Now _go_." She didn't really care that Data technically outranked her. This was an emergency and anyway, rank had long ago ceased to matter between the two of them. Data, for his part, offered no further arguments. He hurried back the way they had come.

"Lock onto the two lifesigns and beam them aboard."

Tasha's first thought was relief as she saw that the Captain was standing upright and didn't appear seriously injured. _So Soran was injured instead. _She turned to see what she could do for him, despite all that he had been responsible for, only to realize it wasn't Soran at all.

It was a human male Tasha had never met, though she would have recognized his face anywhere, bruised, scraped, and bloody though it was. _James Kirk. What in the galaxy is going on?_

But she quickly realized she had more important matters to attend to. Kirk was breathing raggedly, covered in blood, and she quickly fell back on her field medic training. _Severe internal bleeding in addition to the visible wounds, probably broken ribs if he's breathing like that, possible head injury_. "Captain, I need the medkit."

"Right." Picard also knew Tasha had more medical training than he did. "We need a doctor. Picard to Crusher."

"No good, Captain. Comm system's down. I've sent Data to get help, but it may be a few minutes." She ripped off the man's shirt, barely taking into account who it was she was stripping. Right now, he was just a patient. "Turbolifts are down too. Where's Soran?"

"Dead. And would all of these malfunctions have anything to do with the reason we're currently on a shuttlecraft that's apparently parked?"

"Ah, Captain -" she fidgeted a little.

"What is it?" he could tell from her expression that it was bad news.

She was grateful for the man under her care, which kept her from having to look Picard in the eyes. "About the ship - the Klingons fired on us just after you left." She pressed a hypospray to Kirk's neck that should help his blood clot. "Somehow - and you'd better believe I'll be investigating once everything's under control - they were able to fire right through our shields." She explained to him how they'd fired back on the Klingon ship, destroyed it only to find that it was too late. How they'd evacuated the stardrive section only to be thrown into the atmosphere by the shockwave.

"Are you telling me we're on the planet?"

"Yes, sir."

Before Picard could answer, two sets of footsteps echoed through the shuttlebay, and he saw Tasha's shoulders sag in relief. Data came back up the ramp, followed by a Vulcan doctor Tasha recognized as Lieutenant Selar.

"Doctor Crusher is occupied. She requested that I attend to the situation."

Even through the pain that twisted his face, Tasha could see her patient smile at a particular type of speech that he no doubt found as endearingly familiar as she did. Selar, for her part, didn't react to the identity of the man lying on the floor at all. Data, on the other hand, took a step back in surprise, eyes wide and jaw dropped.

"Captain Kirk!"

Picard sighed. "Indeed, Mr. Data. I suppose that brings me to what I was about to say." He looked from Data to Tasha to Selar. "I'm counting on all three of you to keep silent about this."

"Of course, sir," Data said, and Tasha and Selar nodded their agreement.

"Mr. Data, you and I are going to go help get everyone off the ship and accounted for. Natasha, join me as soon as you're done here."

"Yes, sir," she said distractedly.

"All right, Commander," Selar began, "show me what you've done so far."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha emerged through the hatch on the main shuttlebay, which Data had managed to open to get himself and Captain Picard out. It was faster walking to the bridge from the outside than from the inside, an hour after the two Starfleet Captains had materialized on the transporter pad. She had managed to track down a working sonic shower and produced a new uniform in the shuttle's replicator. The result was that she bore no evidence that she had been covered in James Kirk's blood only minutes before.

Picard stepped up close enough to her that he could speak almost under his breath and she could make him out. "How's our patient?"

"Selar says he needs surgery, but he's expected to make it. She asked me to find her an actual medical assistant, though."

Picard took a step back and turned his head so he wasn't shouting in her ear. "Dr. Crusher!"

Beverly appeared as if by magic. "What do you need?"

"Dr. Selar needs a medical assistant to help her in surgery. Someone who can be trusted to keep a secret."

She pinched her lips, considering. "Normally, I'd recommend Alyssa, but if it's Selar doing the operation, take Lal."

"She's not an actual medical assistant," Tasha pointed out. "Not doubting her skills or anything, but she's not commissioned and she's never had formal training."

"As far as I'm concerned, that's a technicality. She and Alyssa are the best I have, and she and Selar make a better pair than Selar and Alyssa. Where is this patient?"

"Main shuttlebay. We're keeping him isolated for now - I'll explain later. Where's my security team?"

"Worf's over there." She indicated with her hand. "I think he's already divided the team up into search parties."

"Thanks, Beverly."

xxxxxxxxx

Androids did not look tired. Ever. But the look on Lal's face suggested that if one could have, she would have. Her dark hair was coming loose from its braid, and her clothes were rumpled, presumably from having surgical garments thrown over them.

"Well?" Picard asked anxiously.

"The operation is complete. The patient will recover completely. However, it is fortunate that he was brought here. The internal damage was far more severe than we had believed. Had he gone even a few more minutes without care, he might well have died. Captain, may I ask -"

"Not now. I promise I'll explain everything later, but I'd rather tell this story only once. Natasha, I'm calling a senior staff meeting. Under the circumstances, both Dr. Selar and Lal should also attend."

It took the two of them a remarkably short time to track down the entire senior staff and assemble them in another undamaged shuttlecraft. They sealed the hatch so they could talk without being overheard.

"I know you're all full of questions," Picard began, "and I'll try to answer them as best I can. Soran is dead. He was blown up by his own rocket after the locking clamps were engaged."

"But Captain," Will interrupted, "if Soran is dead, who's Doctor Selar's patient?"

"I'm getting there, Number One. You see, there's been an odd clash of timelines."

"Oh, really? What's that like?" Tasha asked to general chuckles. Even Picard cracked a small smile, his first since - well, now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen him smile since Worf's promotion ceremony. She made a mental note to figure out what was bothering him.

"Soran did blow up the sun. At least, I _remember_ him blowing up the sun. He and I were both swept up by the Nexus. I'm not sure how, but I realized I had to go back and save the ship. I ran into what I can only describe as an echo of Guinan, who told me I could leave the Nexus at any point in time. She also told me she couldn't leave with me, but recommended another relatively recent arrival, whom I eventually persuaded to accompany me. It was with his assistance that I was able to stop Soran." Picard glanced around the room. "I want all of you to promise that what I'm about to say will stay inside this shuttle."

"How is it possible for words to -"

"Turn of phrase, Doctor," Tasha explained to the Vulcan. "It means we're not supposed to repeat it to or within earshot of anyone not currently on this shuttle."

"Then you have my promise," Selar said firmly, and the rest of the group murmured their assent.

"Very well. The patient recovering in the other shuttlecraft is none other than Captain James Kirk."

The shuttle erupted in questions and exclamations. Only the four who had already known were silent.

"All right, all right!" Picard held up his hand and the chatter died away. "I'll answer questions, but one at a time, please!"

Beverly said what everyone was thinking. "I thought Kirk was dead. Killed on the _Enterprise_-B's maiden voyage, if I'm not mistaken. Will and I were just talking about that yesterday."

"He was swept out into space during a hull breach," Will confirmed. Then his eyes suddenly went wide. "Unless -"

"They were trying to escape an energy ribbon. This same ribbon, if I'm not mistaken." Tasha silently thanked Tom, as she had many times before for the countless hours he'd spent teaching her and Deanna about Earth history. "Instead of being swept into space, he could have been swept _into the ribbon itself_."

"I think at this point, it's more than a 'could have'," Geordi said wryly.

"What's his condition?" Beverly asked Selar.

"He has undergone surgery and is expected to make a full recovery. As for the time-travel aspect, his condition is analogous to that of someone who has remained in a theoretic perfect stasis field for eighty years. I suspect that, were I to compare this scan with his last medical examination before his disappearance, he would appear to be in the same condition as he was on his final mission, excepting for the injuries he sustained earlier today."

"How was he injured?" Beverly asked.

"Soran shot out a bridge while a piece of equipment we needed was on the other side. Kirk jumped for it and managed to do what was needed, but the section of bridge he was hanging onto broke off and ended up on top of him. I was on my way down to him when we were picked up. And may I say I'm very glad we were picked up."

"You can thank your Chief of Security for that one." Will grinned at Tasha. "It was her idea to use the shuttle's sensors and transporter."

He nodded his thanks to Tasha. "Now, as to the matter of why my ship, which was not designed to land, is on the ground -"

"I'm working on it, Captain. The only thing I know for sure is that their weapons were standard torpedoes. The reason they were able to cut through our shields was that their weapons were precisely tuned to our shield modulation." Tasha sighed. "Unfortunately, that raises as many questions as it answers. I can't figure out how they could have figured out our shield modulation. I've checked and rechecked the sensor logs, and the Klingons didn't hide any sort of sensor probe in the transporter beam, which was my first thought."

"Oh, my God," Geordi whispered suddenly.

"What?" Every eye in the room turned to him.

Geordi didn't respond. Instead, he slowly removed his VISOR and handed it to Data. "Check it for sensor devices," he said heavily.

Data examined it. "You are correct."

Tasha abruptly hit the bulkhead in frustration. "I can't believe I didn't think of that. I should have had the VISOR checked before he ever went on duty."

"And I should have realized." Geordi's voice was still heavy. "They had my VISOR for most of the time - I thought it was just to make everything that much more frightening."

"You shouldn't blame yourself, Geordi," Deanna said softly. "I'm sure that's exactly what they intended for you to think."

"But this isn't the first time something like this has happened," he said miserably.

"Which is why I should have thought to check for tampering." Tasha was as angry with herself as Geordi was.

"All right, both of you stop it," Picard said firmly. "The fact is, they sent aboard a well-disguised probe, and it's no one's fault for not identifying it. Can it be removed?"

"I believe so, sir." Data fiddled with it for a moment, then popped a tiny device off. "There." He took Geordi's wrist in one hand and then with the other hand placed the VISOR in Geordi's. The engineer clipped the prosthetic back in place.

"Starfleet is sending ships to pick us up. Theywill be here in four days. In the meantime it's our job to make sure that everyone is looked after and protected from any possibility of attack. Any questions? No? Dismissed!"

**Some of you, I accept, may see it as strange that Tasha took the time to shower and change before going to look for the medical assistant. My reasoning is as follows: 1. I said "surgery" not "emergency surgery" and 2. They wouldn't want to panic people by appearing covered in blood.**

**I know the alternate future bit seemed depressing, but the movie did it in brief and the novelization did it so I figured I would do the same.**

**Please review. The last chapter got more than any other in this story thus far; I'm very pleased.**


	6. Chapter Six: Common Ground

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**_**Chapter Six: Common Ground**_**_

James Kirk had only vague memories of what had happened after he'd grabbed the control pad Soran had tossed and dropped the cloak around the rocket. He knew the bridge had fallen with him on it, and that it had ended up on him. He remembered searing pain, agony through his entire body, every breath hurting his strained ribs. He remembered an explosion, Soran's rocket he assumed, and then silence. He'd heard distant footsteps, and then all of a sudden felt the tingle of a transporter beam. He'd materialized next to Picard on a transporter pad, heard a woman's voice, and felt his clothes being torn off. Picard and the woman had been talking, but he'd been hurting too much to make out what they were saying. He'd heard more voices. One of them had been unmistakably Vulcan, the familiar speech patterns cutting through his haze. The Vulcan and the first woman had started examining him, and then he'd blacked out from the pain.

He was lying on a bed in a small space. Beyond that, he wasn't sure where he was. He didn't hurt anymore, for which he was grateful. He sat up, and his head started spinning. Okay, that hadn't been a good idea.

"You're awake."

It was the same female voice he'd heard the day before. This time he was coherent enough to see the body that came with the voice. If he'd been standing, they'd have been about the same height. She was blond-haired and blue-eyed, and despite his dizziness he gave her his most charming smile.

"You feeling all right?"

"A little dizzy," he admitted. "Where exactly am I?"

"You're on a shuttle." She took hold of his shoulders and helped him lie down again. "You must be thirsty. You've been unconscious for sixteen hours."

It wasn't a question, but he nodded anyway. She brought him a glass of water and helped him to sit partway up against some pillows. He sipped gratefully. "You a doctor?"

"Ah, not in the strictest sense of the word. I'm Head of Security, but I'm also trained as a field medic. We had a pretty serious incident yesterday, a lot of people hurt, and Medical's got their hands full, but our CMO wanted someone with medical training to stay here in case any unforeseen complications came up. The planet's uninhabited, no foreseeable danger, so as soon as I secured the area I left my second in command in charge and came here."

"A woman of many talents. Listen, Commander, do you think you could do something for me?"

"I can try."

"I, uh, I want to know what's going on with my people. The people I used to serve with, my old senior staff. Do you think you could look it up for me?"

"Of course." She stepped over to the shuttle's computer console. "Who is it you want to know about?"

"First off, Spock."

She grinned. "As it happens, I don't need the computer for that one. I met him a few years ago, on Romulus."

"_Romulus_? What in blazes was he doing there? For that matter, what were you doing there?"

"He was working on the reunification movement. And since he left for Romulus without telling anyone, we were looking for him."

"Reunification." Kirk laughed. "Exactly the kind of cause I'd expect Spock to take up. Is he still on Romulus?"

"No. Last I heard, he was on Vulcan. I'll make some inquiries when we get back to Earth."

"I'd appreciate that. What about Dr. McCoy?"

"Give me a minute." She input the search into the computer. "Ah, here we go. At the moment, he's living on Earth, enjoying his retirement. You know, he came aboard the _Enterprise_ on her maiden voyage."

"Really? What for?"

"Inspection tour. He certainly left his mark on the crew."

"Oh?" Kirk leaned forward, eager to hear more. "What did he do?"

"Well, the _Enterprise_ has an officer who's an android, and this officer, Lieutenant Commander Data, was assigned to transport the Admiral back to the ship he'd come from. Not knowing much about the man, Data made the mistake of asking him if he wouldn't rather use the transporter -"

"I can imagine what happened next." Kirk was grinning now.

"It didn't even end there. Data decided to try and talk his way out of the situation, and so said that he just thought that at the Admiral's age, he shouldn't have to put up with a shuttle. So the Admiral asks how old Data thinks he is, and Data being Data rattles off an exact number down to the day. And, according to Data, the Admiral took a good look at him and then said _I don't see no points on your ears, but you sound like a Vulcan, boy!_" She said the last in a good enough imitation that Kirk burst out laughing. "Data wasn't exactly sure, but he said he thought McCoy regarded him with a mix of exasperation and affection."

"If he thought your officer - Data? - resembled a Vulcan, I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. That's how he always thought of Spock, no question. What about Scotty - I mean Montgomery Scott, my old Chief Engineer?"

Tasha smiled again. "Now that's an interesting story. Mr. Scott was on his way to retirement when his ship got into an accident. Somehow - and don't ask me how, I'm not an engineer - he managed to rig a repeating transporter loop as a sort of stasis chamber. We found him seventy-five years later."

"Scotty never rigged something that didn't work." A fond smile crossed the man's lips. "Where is he now?"

"According to these records, also on Earth."

"Wonderful. What about Sulu?"

"Also on Earth, also retired. Actually, someone I know spoke to him just recently."

"Really?"

"Yes, a friend of mine. She's just finished her final year at the Academy. Her father's first assignment was with Sulu aboard the _Excelsior_, just before the Khitomer Accords. He was killed in action recently," she tried and failed to say this flatly, "and so, since she was his only relative in Starfleet, he made a point of contacting her."

"Khitomer, huh? Don't suppose I ever met him."

"You probably did. From what I know, he spoke up rather loudly against the treaty."

"Ah, wait. Dark-skinned Vulcan, an Ensign at the time?"

"Yes."

"Him I remember keenly. You know, he was really only saying what most of Starfleet was thinking."

"I know."

"Sulu told me he'd resigned."

"He did. Then he reenlisted." She smiled sadly.

"He was more than just your friend's father, from the looks of things."

"He was like a father to me, too."

"I am sorry."

"Thank you."

"Now, what about Uhura, my communications officer?"

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha lay in the bunk across from Kirk, who'd cried himself back to sleep upon hearing that his navigator and head nurse had both passed away since his disappearance. Somehow, that episode had changed her perception of him. The man's name was splattered across the pages of history. He'd always seemed larger than life. But seeing him break down and weep over the loss of his friends made her keenly aware that he was as human as any of them.

Hearing odd noises from him, she rolled over and sat up. Her first concern was that Kirk was having trouble breathing, the way he was gasping. But a quick tricorder scan showed that there was nothing physically wrong with him at all.

"Come on - come on," he mumbled. "Come on, Kevin. I've got you. Don't look."

Look at what? Who was Kevin?

"No - NO! _David_!"

She'd worry about the specifics later. She reached over and took hold of his shoulder, shaking him hard. "Captain. _Captain_!"

Eyes flew open, locked on her. He stared for a long moment before seeming to realize where he was and what was going on, and he relaxed back into the bunk. "Sorry about that. Did I wake you?"

"No, it's okay. Do you want me to get someone? We have a counselor onboard -"

"No. I've had enough of counselors. Someone needs to explain to me why it's such a given that someone who grew up on Earth or Vulcan or wherever in the nice, safe Federation can understand what it means to -" he broke off abruptly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"Don't worry about it. What's bothering you?"

"I just said I don't -"

"Look, I'm not a counselor, looking to analyze or assuming I have all the answers. I just -" _have felt the way you look now more times than you could possibly imagine. Can't stand to see that pain in someone else's eyes because I know how very much it hurts. _"-thought it might help you to talk."

He nodded a little, acknowledging the truth of her statement. "Ever hear of Tarsus IV?"

"Yes." That was one history lesson she'd never forgotten. "The planet was struck by an agricultural plague, leaving it without enough food to feed its eight thousand inhabitants. The governor, Kodos, commonly known as Kodos the Executioner, divided the population in half. He selected four thousand to be murdered, believing himself to be doing the right thing. Starfleet ships arrived sooner than expected but too late to save the four thousand." Her eyes widened as her thought process caught up with the facts she'd been reciting. "You were there, weren't you? On Tarsus?"

"Yes." A silence, in which he knew she was waiting for him to say something else. "I was one of the four thousand that Kodos decided was less worthy of life."

"But how -" she stopped suddenly, and a look of awe came over her face. "You were one of the nine. The people who managed to escape the execution."

He nodded silently.

"I always admired you, you know. From the first time I heard about Tarsus IV, I admired you."

"There was nothing to admire, Commander. Just a group of us, all kids, mostly boys, who managed to run to save ourselves." He shuddered, and without really thinking about it she reached out and touched his shoulder. "I grabbed the closest kid to me, which happened to be Kevin Riley, and we managed to crawl between the guards - that's why we were all kids, we were smaller, easier to miss. But I can't forget the others." His hand found the wrist of the woman standing next to him, and Tasha wasn't at all sure he was aware of what he was doing. "But I watched them die. I watched almost four thousand people killed, murdered, _executed_ in the name of _survival_ - oh, God." He let his face drop into his free hand, and his shoulders trembled with the effort of holding back tears. She said nothing, just let him hold onto her arm as he pulled himself together.

"I'm sorry, Commander." He abruptly released her wrist.

"My name's Tasha," she interjected.

He got a partial version of his former charming smile back. "Well, then, I'm sorry, _Tasha._ I didn't mean to lose control like that."

"It's okay. Really."

"It shouldn't affect me after this long -"

"Who in the galaxy told you that? Captain -"

"My name's Jim." He turned her own words back on her.

"_Jim_, then." It didn't flow as easily as her name had from him - it was somewhat odd addressing the most famous captain in Starfleet by his given name. "Seeing something like that, living through it, _never _goes away completely. If that's what your counselors have been saying, then I don't blame you for wanting to shy away."

"You talk like you know."

"I do know."

"About what? The counselors or the never going away?"

"Both."

"Really?"

She sighed. "You told me your story, I suppose it's only fair I tell you mine."

"Sit down." He shifted position on the bed so there was room for her, and she obliged. "Now, what were you saying?"

"Ever heard of the planet Turkana IV?"

He shot her a very strange look. "Yes, an Earth colony. Labeled one of the most pleasant places in the galaxy, if I recall correctly. Made its name on tourism."

"Right." She blushed a little. "I keep forgetting you're eighty years out of the loop." She swallowed hard, she'd been hoping, for some silly reason, that he'd know enough about the situation for her to skip the history lesson. "You're right - sort of. Turkana _was_ a tourist haven - my mother described it as paradise, and from what I vaguely remember, it was. But there were problems. The government started breaking down, and factions emerged everywhere. By the time my sister was born, it was chaos." She drew a deep breath, trying to keep back her tears. "My father was a member of the government, a face people recognized. That's why - that's why they killed him. My mother too. I was five."

His face softened. "I'm so sorry."

"For the next ten years, I saw and experienced things I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I was rescued by chance by a sympathetic Starfleet doctor, but then I ended up in a center with counselors who were - condescending, arrogant, harsh, you name it. So you see, I do know."

"I do see. And I can't imagine." He had a look on his face that suggested he wasn't entirely aware of where he was anymore. "At the end of that terrible couple of days, I was able to find my parents, to know I was safe and feel their love. To lose them at such a young age, and then to spend _ten years_ on your own, must have been - I don't have words for it."

"Niether do I. Listen - can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"You called out two names in your sleep. One was Kevin, which makes sense, since you told me about a Kevin you rescued. But who is David?"

A million expressions crossed Kirk's face at once; wistfulness, pride, love, and unbearable pain most striking among them. "A - a mixing of memories. While we were trying to run, I tripped over a body, a stranger. But in my dream, I turn the body over, and it's David." He drew a shaky breath. "David was my son."

Kirk's words hung in the air for a long moment before Tasha broke the silence with a whispered question. "What happened?"

"He and two others were trapped on a planet with a group of hostile Klingons and taken hostage. The Klingons threatened to kill one of the hostages to prove they were serious about taking lives if we didn't comply with their demands. They tried to kill one of the others, a woman David had been involved with, and he lunged at the man." He closed his eyes against the tears. "He was brave, but he didn't have the fighting skills to match. The fight only lasted a few seconds before -"

"I'm so sorry." This time, she consciously took his hand.

"I barely knew him," Kirk continued after a pause. "His mother didn't want me involved in his life, and I respected her wishes. I didn't meet him until a few weeks before..." Tasha squeezed his hand. "But we built the beginnings of a relationship. And then I lost him - you can't imagine what that's like."

Tasha placed her free hand on his shoulder and let him compose himself. When she finally spoke, it was little more than a whisper.

"The first time I held my daughter in my arms, I vowed I would protect her as long as I lived. A baby was a thing of beauty in the ugly place I lived - and she was so beautiful. I should've known it couldn't last." She felt his hand tighten around hers. "She lived less than two days. She was too early, too small. And when she died, I wanted to die with her."

Jim mentally kicked himself for once again making an assumption about this woman's background. Hadn't she _just_ proved his first assumption wrong? He released her hand so he could hold her shoulders, comforting her as she had him.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her. "And I'm flattered that you trusted me enough to tell me."

"You have something most people don't."

"And what's that?"

"You understand. We're a lot alike, Captain. So many people in the Federation have never known pain or hardship on the level that I have, that you have. And I can't hold that against them - I could never wish my pain on them. I just wish -"

"That they'd stop pretending they understand."

"Exactly."

He wrapped his arms around her, tentatively at first, remembering that despite the fact that he _felt_ like he'd known her forever, it had really been only a few hours. When she lifted her arms to return his embrace, he tightened it, feeling her tremble with the force of suppressed emotions - or was that himself?

The touch brought down something in Tasha, and she began to weep silently, releasing her heartache into the man's shoulder. That in turn set him off, and he began to shed tears he wouldn't have thought he'd had left after how much he'd cried that morning. They remained in each other's arms, comforting and being comforted.

After a few minutes, she drew back from him. "Ah, Captain..."

"No more of that. Didn't I tell you to call me Jim?"

"It's a little difficult. Children learn your name in primary school. I'm talking to a legend."

"I never asked to be a legend."

She smiled. "The Klingons have a saying. 'Great men do not seek power. They have power thrust upon them.'"

Kirk smiled too. "We humans have a similar saying. But those great men don't want to be treated like gods. Sometimes, they just want to be friends with the people who are like them - and I don't mind telling you, Tasha, that for me, those people are few and far between. All but one of my friends are eighty years older. Two of them are dead. I've made one new friend in this century. I'd like to make more. And I'd like to start right here."

"I'd like that."

"Good. Now, I won't blame you if a "Captain" slips out from time to time. But at least try to call me Jim."

"Okay, I'll try."

"That's all I ask."

**The multiple similarities between Tasha and Jim Kirk were entirely coincidental. Tarsus IV comes from the TOS episode "The Conscience of the King" (which I'm in the process of writing a short story for), and David Marcus is from "The Wrath of Khan" and "The Search for Spock". I created Eva, Tasha's baby, long before I decided I'd be saving Kirk.**

**I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my friend Richard. Yesterday marks the second anniversary of the day he decided that his life was too painful to continue living. Rest in peace.  
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**Please Review.**


	7. Chapter Seven: Reunited

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Seven: Reunited  
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"Spock here." The aged Vulcan took a good look at the woman on the viewscreen. "Well, Commander. What can I do for you?"

"Are you busy for the next few days?"

"Not especially. Is my presence required?"

"Not required, per se, but it would be appreciated on Earth in - hang on - computer, at present course and speed, how long to Earth?"

"_Three days, fifteen hours, twenty-eight minutes, and forty-seven seconds._"

"A little more than three days."

"For what purpose?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that over subspace. But you'll understand as soon as you meet us."

His eyebrow raised. "And if I do not?"

"Then you'll understand soon enough anyway. But that's beside the point, because if I know you, and I do, you will be coming."

"I will." It came out halfway between a question and a statement.

"Vulcans have been called many things. Unpredictable isn't one of them."

"I suppose it is not. Very well, I will see you in three days. Spock out."

Tasha turned from the logo of the United Federation of Planets to grin at the man who sat just out of the screen's view. He grinned back. "Typical Spock. But he'll be there. Listen, I think I'm healed enough not to need a constant nurse. Why don't you take a break? I hate to be a burden."

"You're not. I have no problem spending time with a friend."

"Thank you. Now get out of here."

"You trying to get rid of me?" she teased.

"Maybe." He grinned, waving her out the door. "Go on. Just because I'm stuck in this little room doesn't mean you have to be."

Tasha and Picard had decided that, for Kirk's safety, his reappearance needed to be kept secret until they made it to Earth, which entailed beaming him directly into a guest suite and then keeping out anyone who wasn't already aware of his reappearance. They had no way of knowing who or what might still be out there, and after the _Enterprise _had been destroyed with no warning, they were eager to err on the side of caution. On the other hand, that didn't mean they couldn't round up every surviving member of Kirk's old senior staff to be there in person the second they let the cat out of the bag. Geordi had made the call to Captain Scott, and Data had called the aged Doctor (who still remembered him), and had managed to convey the message amid a barrage of chastisement for losing the _Enterprise_. Data, still unfamiliar with emotions, had confided to Tasha that he had been uncertain whether to laugh or cry, and believed there might be a flaw in the chip. She had assured him otherwise. Picard and Will had handled the rest of the calls through more official channels.

Speaking of Data, Tasha stepped into the dining hall to find Data with about thirty sample-sized portions of food in front of him. She stepped up behind him. "Enjoying yourself?"

He turned to her with his newly-found smile, the one that never failed to melt her heart. "Since I can now form preferences, I thought I would try a little of everything to determine what I like."

She laughed. "A fair plan."

"However, I suddenly find food less appealing. There are other experiences I desire more."

"In that case," she said with a knowing smile, "what are we waiting for?"

xxxxxxxxx

"Forgive me for saying so, but you don't look well. Should I call a doctor?"

"No, I'm fine," Jim insisted.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, Jean-Luc told me I needed to catch up on the last eighty years of history. I agreed. So I started reading up." At this point, words seemed to fail him, and he shoved the PADD he was holding into her hands. It only took her a second to determine the cause of his loss of color and trembling hands.

"Eleven thousand people," he whispered.

"I know."

"You were there?"

"Not at the battle itself. Our ship had been damaged trying to stop the Borg - trying being the operative word," she added with a grimace. "The fleet assembled to stop them, but even forty ships were no match for a Borg cube which had assimilated knowledge of every existing Starfleet weapon. The battle was over in minutes."

"How did you stop them?"

"We were able to, ah, re-abduct a Starfleet officer they had abducted and assimilated. From there, we used his interfaces with the collective to program a malfunction. The ship self-destructed. But the trouble they gave us is hardly over."

"Have they attacked again?"

"Thank God, no. But the attack left us short almost ten thousand officers and thirty-nine ships. We still haven't built back up to where we were. It's just not possible. Starfleet's working on getting the numbers up by increasing Academy seats and bringing in more non-commissioned officers, but we can't replace experience. A lot of the officers lost had years or decades of service under their belts. We've got a lot of promising newcomers, but they're still newcomers. There's no way to compensate for that."

A small smile came back to Jim's face. "You think Starfleet could use an experienced Captain who might happen to be a few decades behind the times?"

She smiled too. "Without a doubt - Captain. Why do I get the feeling you've been waiting to ask that?"

His smile became a full-blown grin. "Retirement never did entirely agree with me. Look, I know I won't get the _Enterprise _in any incarnation. If they do build a new one, Jean-Luc will be the one who gets it. I told him in as many words that he shouldn't let himself be taken off the bridge of that ship. But I wouldn't mind standing on the bridge of a ship again."

"And I doubt Starfleet would mind having you there."

"You know, I'd need a good first officer. I highly doubt Spock will want to go back to the bridge of a ship. I don't suppose you know anyone -"

"I know what you're trying to ask, but my answer is no. My place is on the _Enterprise_, with Captain Picard."

"I thought you might say that." He couldn't hide his disappointment.

"Look, it's probably going to take them awhile to build a new _Enterprise_. Until there's a place for me on a ship called _Enterprise_, I'd be honored to serve under you. But with the understanding that once that ship and that place does exist, that's where I'll be. In the meantime, it'll give you time to find someone else."

"If that's the best I can get, I'll take it. And welcome aboard. In advance."

"Thank you, Captain."

xxxxxxxxx

"..._reporting live from Starfleet Headquarters. Reporters and Starfleet officials alike have been told to expect a surprise, but what that surprise is remains a mystery._"The camera panned over to a small assembled group. "_And here we have what would appear to be a reunion of the core crew that served under the late Captain Kirk aboard the original _Enterprise_."_

"You look quite well for the late Captain Kirk," Tasha commented to the man watching over her shoulder. He grinned appreciatively.

A familiar figure stepped out into the room. "_And here we have Captain Picard, of the latest ship named _Enterprise_, which as most of the Federation knows by now was destroyed last week. Captain, can you provide any further insight into this mystery?_"

"_I can do better than that._" He tapped his combadge. "_Mr. La Forge, is everything ready?_"

"_Stand by._" Tasha's combadge crackled. "_La Forge to Yar. Are we good to go?_"

She glanced over at Kirk, who nodded. The two of them stood, and she took his arm. "Ready and waiting, Geordi."

"_We're set, Captain._" Geordi's voice came through Picard's combadge on the news program."_All we need is your word._"

"_Make it so._"

The guest quarters on the _Farragut_ faded away and were replaced with the crowd they had been watching on the net only moments before. As soon as the beam released them, Tasha pushed her friend forward and took a step back. The result was that by the time anyone realized what they were seeing, Jim Kirk was front and center. The idle chatter of the onlookers ceased as abruptly as if someone had thrown a switch. Even the reporter was silent.

Kirk himself was the first to speak. "Well, it looks like I missed the beginning of this party." He cast a fond smile on his former crewmates, who were, with the exception of Spock, staring open-mouthed, before turning to the reporter. "Then again, I suppose that's what this lovely lady meant when she referred to me as 'the late Captain Kirk.'"

That broke the tension. Everyone started talking at once, firing off questions. The reporter had composed herself enough to make a statement to the camera, but Tasha couldn't hear a word she said. She saw security scrambling to keep the onlookers from rushing the legendary Captain. Then Kirk ran over to a particular guard who was attempting to hold back his friends. What he said was inaudible even from her distance, but the content was clear as the guard stepped out of the way and let the group of five through.

Predictably enough, it was McCoy who reached Kirk first, and the two shared a long, tearful embrace. Scotty was next, and their reunion was just as emotional. Jim - because it was clear to Tasha that in this moment he wasn't _The Captain_, he was just _Jim_ - hugged Sulu and his communications officer, Uhura before turning to Spock, who had been hanging back.

The Vulcan raised his hand in a traditional salute, and Kirk hesitated only a fraction of a second before he hugged his former first officer too. Spock apparently wasn't entirely surprised, as he slowly lifted his arms to hug the human back. Jim was crying openly now, and Tasha could see Spock's lips moving. The media cameras were swarming as close as they could, trying to get a close-up of the Vulcan behaving in such an un-Vulcan way, but Tasha knew they didn't care. They were more than friends, they were brothers, brothers greeting each other after an unbearably long separation. And that, she knew, was all that mattered to them in this moment.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha groaned when her door chime rang. She glanced over at the man seated across from her. "Who do you think they're looking for this time?"

Somehow - she suspected Will Riker - word had gotten out that Tasha was responsible for saving the life of Captain Kirk. As a result, the apartment she was sharing with Data while they waited for Starfleet to figure out what they were going to do with the _Enterprise_ officers had been mobbed with reporters. Data and Geordi had suddenly had something they had to go do for a few days, so the apartment was empty except for Tasha, the occasional guest, and the reporters.

"I don't know," Jim answered back, "but once they realize we're both here, it won't matter who they were originally looking for."

The door chimed again, and Tasha nearly threw up her hands. "Yes, fine, come in!"

But it wasn't a reporter team that stepped through the door. It was a single Vulcan, dark-skinned, in a yellow operations uniform with an ensign's pips. "I am sorry. Is this an inconvenient time?"

"No, no, come in. I'm sorry, I thought you were a reporter." She stood and pulled the younger girl into a tight hug.

But Asil abruptly pulled back from Tasha's embrace, looking over her shoulder. "Ah - sir. I did not see you there."

"That's quite all right." He smiled at her, then turned to Tasha. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, right. Well, I don't suppose _you_ need any introduction." She smiled back at him, then turned to Asil, who was just barely keeping her Vulcan composure in the face of seeing a Starfleet legend and recent subject of headline news sitting in her friend's living room. "This is my sister, Asil."

Asil opened her mouth as though to explain why a human was referring to her, a Vulcan, as a sister, but Jim waved that off. "So - Ensign?" He glanced at her rank pips. "What ship?"

"None. I am currently serving as part of Starfleet Engineering Corps."

Jim tried and failed to conceal his surprise, and Tasha's own eyes went wide. "You didn't tell me that!"

"I informed you I had been posted to a planetside assignment."

"There's a difference between 'a planetside assignment' and Engineering Corps!"

"Engineering Corps is -"

"A planetside assignment, right. But anyone can get a planetside assignment. Not just anyone can get a posting to Engineering Corps right out of the Academy!"

"Right out of -" Jim looked even more like he'd been hit over the head with a heavy object. "You must be good."

"Perhaps."

"Ensign - Asil, is it? _No one_ gets into Engineering Corps straight out of the Academy."

"That is obviously not true, or I would not have."

Jim grinned at Tasha over Asil's head. "All right, then. How many of your coworkers were in your Academy class?"

"None."

"And how many of them started as soon as they were out of the Academy?"

"None that I am aware of."

"My point. Practically no one else ever has, in my time or as far as I know yours. To be an exception to that unwritten rule definitely says something about your abilities."

Asil nodded, accepting the truth of his statement.

"Is that the time?" he asked suddenly. "I'd better go, I'm going to be late for, uh..."

"Something," Tasha finished, laughing. "I'll see you soon. Oh, and Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time, come up with something to be late for before you open your mouth."

He laughed too as he made his not-so-subtle exit. The moment he was gone, Asil turned to Tasha.

"What was Captain Kirk doing in your apartment?"

"Long story."

"I have time."

Tasha explained, in brief, how she'd rescued the legendary Captain and subsequently befriended him. She skimmed over the details - Asil still didn't know about the details of Turkana or about Eva at all, and she certainly had no reason to know about Kirk's past, and despite the fact that her "baby" sister was almost twenty-two years old, Tasha still felt the instinct to protect her from knowing the scope of the horrors that were out there, from knowing how much pain one person could inflict on another. To her relief, Asil accepted the brevity.

"And why did he attempt to excuse himself so suddenly with what was clearly a false reason?"

"I'm sure he realized that we haven't spoken in awhile. I'm sure you saw the video images of his reunion with Ambassador Spock. He understands that you and I have the same connection that the two of them do, and that we need to be alone for awhile."

Asil nodded, accepting the explanation.

Tasha quickly became serious. "Are you okay?"

"I am well. Why do you ask in that manner?"

"Oh, come on. I haven't even had a chance to talk to you since _Voyager_ disappeared. This must be hard for you."

"I - miss him," she admitted.

"I know you do. You two were especially close."

Vulcans _did not_ become affronted, but this one looked that way. "Are you suggesting my father engaged in favoritism?"

"No, of course not. But admit it. You shared something with _our_ father that your brothers didn't. You may look like a copy of your mother-" and she did, she always had - "but your personality is much closer to his. You always were the child most like him."

She nodded again. "Did he know?"

"Did he know what?"

"That you thought of him as your father. I know I was unaware."

"No," she admitted. "Not in as many words, anyway. He knew that I thought he and the rest of you were as close to a family as anyone I had, he knew I looked up to him, but I don't think I ever actually told him that I saw him as a father. It just always seemed so unnecessary to put it into words. Now I wish I had."

"Perhaps it was unnecessary. Perhaps he knew without needing to be told."

"I hope he did. But what about you? I have my friends on the _Enterprise_ to help me, but you told me you're not really close to anyone on your - _assignment_." She was still somewhere between amused and annoyed about not being told exactly what her sister had been doing. "Are you in contact with the rest of your family, at least?"

"Not so much," she admitted. "There were - difficulties, between my mother and myself."

"Tell me."

"I do not think -"

"Tell me."

"It began when we returned to Vulcan after the battle at Wolf 359. You are aware that some Vulcans are prejudiced against humans?"

Tasha nodded. "Go on."

"Well, I heard my mother discussing Earth and humans with others of her acquaintance, and what those acquaintances were saying was not complimentary. Anyway, it struck me that my mother was not countering their remarks, and so I inserted myself into the conversation and did so in her place."

"And she didn't like that."

"She asked me to remove myself from the conversation, and once we were alone she lectured me on respect. I told her she needed to respect the people she'd lived and worked with on Earth. We argued back and forth for several minutes. She told me I was behaving too much like a human. I told her that I did not see that as a problem. I said I thought Vulcans could learn something from humans if we were not so convinced that they could teach us nothing. She told me that I needed to keep such illogical ideas to myself because we would be remaining on Vulcan. I asked about Father, and she said he would be remaining on Earth. I told her I wanted to remain with him and to join Starfleet. She told me I should wait until I had a firmer grasp of what it means to be Vulcan, something she believed I had never learned because I was only two years old when we moved to Earth. I told her I would not. She said - perhaps I should not discuss this part."

"No, go on. I consider myself warned."

"She said that it had been a mistake for Father to bring a human into a home in which a young child was being raised, and that had she known I would be so 'corrupted' she never would have allowed him to do so. I told her that without you, I could have died when those men took that park hostage. She said," and here Asil began an imitation to rival Data, "'I do not dispute her heroism or doubt her character, but to expose a young Vulcan to the whims of human emotion is to invite conflict with our own customs.'" Tasha might have smiled at the perfect mimicry had the topic not been so serious. "I told her that I would not listen to such disrespect of my friend. Then I said I was leaving as soon as there was an open place on a shuttle for earth. It took three more days, and I didn't speak a word to her the entire time, and the only things she said to me were trying to talk me out of my decision. If she had just admitted that she might have been at least partially at fault, I might have been willing to have that conversation, but she did not. I left without speaking to her, and we have not spoken since."

"Maybe you should try to change that. I mean, who do you have if not her?"

"I have you."

"True. But one person isn't enough for anyone."

"I fail to see why not."

"Because that one person can't always be around or available. Think about it. The more people you have to rely on, the greater probability that one of them will be there when you need them. You know how much I care about you, but I can't always be around. You need to find other people, Asil. And you need to start with your mother."

"Not 'our' mother?" she asked in a way that most people would have taken as a straight question, but that Tasha knew her well enough to know was just a little cheeky.

"I'd have called her my mother if she hadn't made it so clear that she regrets having me around."

"I'm sorry, I was not thinking -"

"It's okay. Forget it. Just - think about what I've said, okay?"

"I will."

**Sorry this took so long. My only defense is that I really didn't realize how long it had been. That and my life has been hectic to no end.**

**Asil will be a recurring, but not terribly regular, character in case anyone was wondering. I'm working on ways to make her more prominent, but that may fade away once Tasha's off Earth, since I've established that Asil's on Earth for the foreseeable future.**

**Please review. Reviews make my day. No, really.**


	8. Chapter Eight: Roads Not Taken

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Eight: Roads Not Taken**_

"All right, what's bothering you?"

"What makes you think anything's bothering me?"

"Come _on_, Deanna. You're just not acting like yourself. In fact, you're acting like you were when -" she cut herself off suddenly. "You broke up with Worf, didn稚 you?"

Deanna turned to stare at her blonde friend. "How -"

"What I was about to say was that you're acting just like you did when you broke up with Tom back in our last year at the Academy. So what happened?"

"He's been acting strange since we came back from Veridian. Withdrawing, not talking to anyone. Anyway, that separation helped me see what's been in front of my nose all along."

"Which is what?"

"There's only one man in this world for me. And as kind as Worf is, it's not him."

"I don't suppose I need to ask?"

"No." Deanna smiled. "It's hardly a secret."

"Does he know?"

"Not yet. I don't want to put this on his plate. He's got enough trouble with Starfleet all over him."

"What's happened?"

"You haven't heard? Well, since Will was Acting Captain at the time of the _Enterprise_'s destruction, all the questions are directed straight at him. And it being the Federation's flagship, they're not letting him off easy."

"But it wasn't his fault! The Klingons -"

"You don't have to tell me. I was there too, you know."

"Yes, I know. It's just -"

"Just what?"

"Come on, Deanna. Don't go into counselor mode on me."

The Betazoid laughed. "Okay, fine. But what were you going to say?"

"You know about my history with Starfleet. How they saved me, and how all I ever wanted was to be a part of them. But after spending so many years in Starfleet - let's just say I'm seeing things I didn't notice when I was busy hero-worshiping."

"Oh?"

"Think about it, Deanna. People like Pressman getting away with breaking the law for years, while someone who did the best he could under impossible circumstances will be questioned relentlessly for not doing as well as Starfleet thinks he should have. Don't get me wrong, I'm not thinking about quitting or anything drastic like that. I'm just feeling mixed up."

"Understandable."

"On a separate note, have you noticed anything - off with the Captain lately?"

"No?" But her tone belied her words.

"Since when have you said facts so uncertainly? Come on, Deanna."

"Okay, yes. But you know I can't tell you what's going on."

"No, I suppose not."

"On the other hand, there's no rule that says he can't tell you himself. I think it might be a good idea to go talk to him."

"Really?"

"Yes. I can't tell you why, but trust me."

xxxxxxxxx

"Come in." Picard's voice was soft from the other side of the door. Tasha entered slowly, almost afraid of what she might find.

Fortunately, it wasn't as bad as she'd feared. The place was well kept up, and her Captain appeared well, if tired. But his eyes, now that he wasn't trying to keep up appearances, were full of impossible pain. He looked lost, and it frightened her.

She pushed her fear aside and joined him on the couch, perching carefully between the holo-pictures strewn across it. "Captain? What's wrong?"

"Natasha. I'm sorry about the mess."

"Forget the mess. What is it? What's bothering you?"

"It's Robert. Robert and Rene."

"Robert's your brother, isn't he? And Rene is - his son," she said, remembering. "What happened? Did you have another fight with him?"

"No - I wish I had." His voice was tight with pain. "There was a fire, my father's old house - Rene and Robert - they didn't make it out." His eyes were bright with tears he wouldn't let fall.

"Oh, Captain." She reached out tentatively and pulled him to her. He began to weep soundlessly, leaning forward against her. For a long time they sat like that, silent except for an occasional soft whimper from Picard.

He finally straightened up, pushing her away slightly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You've done nothing wrong. Is that your family?" She lifted the picture he'd been staring at from the armrest.

"Not exactly."

_Not exactly indeed._ The picture showed the Captain maybe ten or fifteen years younger, much as he had been when she first met him, though it was difficult to tell. He was dressed in civilian clothes, and he held a small child, maybe five or six, on his lap. A small child that was certainly not Rene, because in addition to the fact that Picard did not resemble the child at all, Tasha was almost positive it was a girl.

"I told Counselor Troi that I'd come to feel that Rene was as close as I would get to having a child of my own. That was my one other chance for a family."

"Who was she, Captain?"

"Her name was Rachel. Rachel Jessica Akman." The name rang some sort of distant bell with Tasha, but she didn't know why, so she ignored it.

"I called her Jessie, everyone did. Only her father called her Rachel." There was no question, his face took on an edge when he mentioned the girl's father. "It's something of a long story."

"I have time."

"Very well. It really all started with a series of coincidences. I was in San Francisco on leave, staying in this very apartment as a matter of fact, and I was visiting some friends in a residential area nearby. As I was walking back to the transport station I heard some odd noises from a yard I was passing. It sounded like some sort of animal in distress so I thought I'd look into it and see if I could help whatever it was. I had no idea what I was about to get myself into.

_Jean-Luc approached the source of the noise, wondering if he shouldn't have woken the homeowner after all. But it was very late and he didn't want to disturb them if it was something he could handle himself._

_He saw something move in the dim light. Yes, this was definitely some sort of animal. He closed the distance between them warily, aware that an injured animal might very well fight him even as he tried to rescue it. He cautiously peered around the brush that separated them, trying to get a look at the creature._

_What he saw almost made him vomit. It wasn't an animal at all. It was a child._

_Her tiny body was covered in blood and dirt. She was barely clothed and shivered in the cool night air. Matted blonde hair, streaked red with blood, stuck to her face. All trepidation forgotten, he hurried over, dropping to his knees by her side._

_"My God." The girl looked even worse up close. He could see her battered body through her clothing, a body so emaciated that he could see where one of her ribs was broken. And around her neck - he swallowed back his nausea. Around her neck was a metal dog collar, spiked so that it dug into her neck at the slightest pressure. These collars had been deemed unfit for all but the most unruly dogs centuries ago. Who the hell thought it was okay to use one on a little girl?_

_His fingers scrambled for the release. As he touched her, she flinched, and her eyes flew open._

_"Easy, little one," he said softly. "I won't hurt you." He finally succeeded in releasing the collar and it fell away, revealing abrasions where it had dug into her skin. "There, isn't that better?"_

_She nodded slightly, terrified eyes still fixed on him._

_"How long have you been chained up like this?"_

_"For two days." Her voice was raspy, dry. She was probably dehydrated. He frantically thought back - had it rained at all in the past two days? No, the weather had been perfect. Perfect, it seemed, for everyone but this poor little girl._

_"Who did this to you?" he asked softly, dreading the answer._

_"Daddy," she whispered, confirming his fears._

_He opened his mouth to ask where her mother was, but closed it again just as quickly. It was clear that talking was causing her pain, and that was the last thing he wanted. He slowly reached out to her._

_"Come on. I'll take you somewhere safe."_

_She shrank away from him, and he couldn't blame her. He wondered if she'd ever had a man reach out to her for any reason except to inflict pain. "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."_

_Slowly, very slowly, she reached her own hand out. The tiny fingers pressed into his palm. He inched closer to her until he could gently slide his arm around her and pull her against his chest. "I've got you, little one. You're safe now."_

_She was shivering, and he knew it wasn't just the cold. The poor child was terrified. With the precious bundle cradled in his arms, he walked to the transport station. The operator was stunned into silence._

_"Where's the nearest hospital?" he asked, and when the operator blinked as though coming out of a deep daze, he repeated his question more urgently. "The hospital. Where is it?"_

_"Uh, I can transport you there."_

_"Please."_

Tasha was staring at him, wide-eyed. "My God. How can people do those things?"

"I've never understood." He sighed. "Anyway, at first I needed to be there. She didn't trust anyone but me.

_"She's awake, sir. But she won't say a word. I was hoping maybe you could get her to talk. I need a statement from her if I'm going to keep her away from her father."_

_"I'll see what I can do. At the very least, you're welcome to a statement from me about the conditions I found her in."_

_"That might be helpful. Come on."_

_The girl was sitting up in bed, wide eyes surveying the room. The moment she saw Picard, her gaze locked onto him._

_He sat down on her bed so he wouldn't tower over her. "Hello, little one. Are you feeling better?"_

_She nodded shyly._

_"Do you need anything? Are you thirsty?" He remembered her voice, harsh through a dry throat. It would probably be easier for her to talk if she drank something first._

_She nodded again, and he ordered a juice from her replicator and brought it to her. Tiny hands took hold of the cup and she gulped at the liquid as though he might take it from her before she was finished. It occurred to him that she probably had had food and water taken from her before. Anger flared up again and he forced it back. He didn't think she'd react well to a display of anger, even if it was on her behalf instead of against her._

_He waited until she was done and then carefully took the cup from her, placing it on a bedside table. "Listen, I need you to answer some questions for me, all right?"_

_"Okay."_

_"What's your name?" Best to start simple, and anyway he genuinely wanted to know. He couldn't keep thinking of her as 'the girl.'_

_"Rachel Jessica Akman. I can spell it too," she said with a tiny, shy smile, and for a moment she seemed almost like a normal child, proud of her abilities. "R-A-C-H-E-L J-E-S-S-I-C-A A-K-M-A-N."_

_"How old are you?"_

_"Five."_

_"When's your birthday?"_

_"November fifteenth."_

_He glanced over at the woman in the law enforcement uniform. She nodded, signaling to him to continue._

_"Can you tell me why you were outside?"_

_"Because I did a bad thing. Daddy made me go outside."_

_"While you were out there, did he bring you any food or anything to drink?"_

_"No. Sometimes it rains while I'm outside and I can drink the water, but this time it was sunny. I really, really wanted it to rain."_

_"Some- are you telling me your father has put you outside before?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Did your father make those bruises and cuts too?"_

_The silence stretched on so long that he thought she wouldn't answer. And when she did, he barely heard her. "Yes."_

_He glanced over at the woman, who nodded, her meaning plain. _I have what I need._ She left, but he couldn't bring himself to leave._

_"Do people call you Rachel, or do they call you something else?" he asked, just for something to say to her._

_"Most people call me Jessie. Only Daddy calls me Rachel."_

_"Jessie it is, then." He had no intention of calling her by a name she'd associate with that monster._

_She stared at him as though she wanted to say something but was afraid to ask._

_"What is it, little one?"_

_"What's your name?" she asked shyly._

_"Jean-Luc Picard." Quickly, he realized that might be a bit much for a small child to remember. "My friends sometimes call me Johnny." Really it was only three friends, one of whom was now dead, but it would be an easier name for her to pronounce and remember._

_She hesitated a moment, but apparently emboldened by his kindness, she spoke again. "Will you stay with me, Johnny?"_

_His eyes filled with tears at this earnest request. "Of course I will, little one. Of course I will."_

Picard had tears in his eyes just remembering, and he wasn't the only one. Tasha was crying too.

"Please tell me you put that - thing - away where he can't hurt her anymore."

He nodded somberly. "He's in a maximum security prison for the rest of his life. No chance for parole. Though to be fair I had very little to do with it. It was Jessie herself who found us our ace in the hole."

_He sat up slowly, wondering what had woken him. Yes, the hospital cot was uncomfortable, but he'd been sleeping on it for the past five nights and it had never woken him before. But he quickly realized what it was. Jessie was whimpering in her sleep._

_"Jessie." He sat on her bed and shook her firmly. "Jessie, wake up. It's only a dream."_

_Her eyes flew open and she stared at him._

_"There, see? You're all right. Everything is going to be all right."_

_She nodded slowly, and then did something she'd never done before. She reached her arms out to him._

_Choking back tears, he took her into his lap, holding her close, rocking her. "There now, little one. I'm here. I'm here."_

_He realized suddenly that she was crying, so silently he might never have noticed if her tears hadn't been soaking through his shirt. He felt sick. No child should ever have to learn how to hide her pain like that._

_"Do you want to tell me what you were dreaming about?"_

_"Mommy," she sobbed into his shoulder._

_"What about your mother?" He realized that in all the chaos, he never had asked her what had happened to the woman._

_"She woke me up and told me to be very quiet. She gave me my doll and told me to hold the doll and then she picked me up and carried me down the stairs, and then I heard Daddy and he was standing on the stairs, and she put me down under the table and told me to just hold my doll and be quiet. Daddy started screaming at her and she yelled too and he started hitting her and just kept hitting. She was crying and trying to hit him back and then he hit her in the head with a pan and she fell down and stopped fighting and he kicked her and then he walked away and I looked at her and she wasn't moving, it was like she was sleeping but her eyes were open and she was staring and she wouldn't wake up."_

_"_Merde_," he gasped. "Did this really happen?"_

_She nodded, but he didn't really need confirmation. He doubted a five-year-old, even one who'd been through everything Jessie had, could imagine up such a scene._

_"Then what happened?"_

_"He came back and told me to go upstairs and back to bed and that there would be people in our house asking me questions but if they asked me anything I was supposed to say I had been asleep the whole night. He said if I said anything else he'd hit me, so I did what he told me, but then he just started hitting me for other things."_

"He killed his own wife?" Tasha was horrified.

Picard nodded. "Anna-Rose Carter Akman. The next day, I told law enforcement what she'd told me. Turns out Jessie's father had called her in missing the following morning, claiming she'd never returned home. Mrs. Akman's body was discovered in San Francisco Bay a month later. From what I was told, it was clear she'd been beaten and then killed by a blow to the head, but having been underwater had washed away any DNA evidence that might have pointed to the identity of her killer. They'd questioned Mr. Akman and his daughter, but of course he wasn't going to tell what really happened, and Jessie was too terrified to say anything but what he told her to say. Well, once that was out, they were pretty sure they had what they needed to lock him up for life, but to get such a case through the system takes time, and no one really wanted Jessie kept in the hospital indefinitely. So we came up with another option - it was my idea, really.

_"I'm sorry it's so small." He'd always been quite independent, and since the mess his last relationship had turned out to be, he'd lived alone. His apartment had had one guest room, but it had always been intended as just that. He hadn't thought he'd have anyone living in that apartment, let alone a child. He could almost see Walker Keel's face if he heard about this._

_But that face was overshadowed by the one staring up at him. Blue-green eyes locked on his gray ones. "That's okay."_

_"Come on in." He took her hand and led her to the guest room. "This is where you'll be sleeping."_

_"It's so big!" she gasped. He smiled at her and was rewarded with a very shy smile back, the first one he'd ever seen from her._

_"Look on the bed. I think there's someone there to welcome you."_

_She obliged, and her eyes widened even further when he saw the huge stuffed rabbit he'd replicated for her. She'd told him that her father had destroyed the doll she'd been clinging to the night of her mother's murder, and he wanted her to have something to hold at night._

_"Do you like it?" he asked, half afraid of her response._

_But he needn't have worried. She threw herself at his legs, hugging him tight. "It's the best room ever."_

_For the first time, he could begin to understand why humans chose to have children._

**I was going to write more, but I decided to break it here and put the rest in the next chapter, since once again I have neglected you all for far too long, and this was a good chapter-end line. My excuse is finals. There were a few days in there I could barely remember my own name.**

**I created Jessie for a story I was planning to write in the far distant future, but once I decided it was going to be Picard who saved her, and I re-watched his bit in Generations about Rene being his last chance for a family, I decided to introduce the story here. I based a lot of this chapter's flashbacks on other stories (fan and otherwise) about abuse. **

**Why a rabbit? I'll explain that in the next chapter.**

**This is also only my second attempt to write flashbacks from the perspective of any character other than Tasha. How did I do?**

**Please review.**


	9. Chapter Nine: A Story For the Ages

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Nine: A Story For the Ages  
><strong>_

Tasha couldn't help an incredulous laugh at the mental image. Captain I-don't-like-children Picard allowing, even relishing a hug from a five-year-old. That definitely warranted a giggle.

"What?" he asked.

"You. Bringing a child into your house. And _Johnny_? Who in the galaxy came up with that one?"

"Walker Keel. He thought it was funny. Of course, once he started calling me that Jack had to do the same, and then Boothby of all people jumped on that bandwagon, and I don't know if you ever really knew him -"

"I did. And once he's made up his mind about something -"

"It's useless to try and change it!" they finished in unison as if they themselves were still children.

"So what happened then?" Tasha asked eagerly.

"She lived with me for awhile. That picture was taken on her sixth birthday. I couldn't throw a full party, and anyway I don't think she would have appreciated. But I - ah - got some help from a friend to prepare a meal, including a cake." He laughed ruefully. "It was a good thing we took the picture before the cake."

"I can imagine. Who was the friend?" Tasha suspected she knew the answer.

"Guinan."

"So what happened next?"

"The trial started about a month later. The prosecutor - and I - were worried about Jessie mostly. She was so young and so easily frightened, and without her testimony the case could have collapsed. We did manage to file a motion to make sure she was questioned by a female attorney - she was just too jumpy around adult men, and the judge agreed she'd be at an unfair disadvantage with a male questioning her, she'd be likely to get intimidated. Well, I was the first witness to be questioned.

_"Please state your full name and occupation for the record."_

_"Jean-Luc Picard. Starfleet Captain._

_"Captain Picard." The prosecuting attorney approached him. "Records show that on the evening of October 23rd, 2361, you transported to Bethune Memorial Hospital in San Francisco, accompanied by a patient. Is this correct?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Can you name the patient in question?"_

_"Rachel Akman." The name felt strangely foreign on his tongue after weeks of calling her by a form of her middle name. _

_"Please describe for this court the events leading to your transport of this patient."_

_Forcing himself to keep his voice level, he explained how he had entered a yard intending to assist what he had believed was an animal in distress, and what he had found instead. He described, in graphic detail, the conditions he had found little Jessie in. He told the jury about her terrified reaction to him._

_"Captain Picard, several days later you called the law enforcement office. Please explain the nature of your call to this court."_

_"Rachel" - again the strange name! "had reported to me that she had witnessed the death of her mother at the hands of her father. I questioned her further and was satisfied that she was telling the truth, and I believed that such a report needed to be investigated to the fullest extent."_

_"No further questions."_

_The defense attorney team conferred for a moment, and then one man approached him. "Captain Picard, did you ever actually see Mr. Akman abuse his daughter?"_

_"No," he admitted, "but I did see her injuries."_

_"Can you say with absolute certainty that he caused them?"_

_"Absolute, no. But -"_

_"Is there a possibility the injuries to Miss Akman were caused by a person other than the defendant?"_

_"Not according to Miss Akman."_

_"Yes or no, Captain?"_

_"A very slim possibility, yes."_

_"As to the other matter, do you have any evidence other than Miss Akman's word that the as-yet unsolved murder of Anna-Rose Akman was committed by the defendant?"_

_"That evidence is contained in the autopsy reports, which will be described later by an expert witness."_

_"No further questions for this witness."_

_"Would the prosecution like to redirect?"_

_"Yes." The prosecutor stepped up again. "Captain Picard, you said there is a possibility that the defendant did not cause Rachel Akman's injuries. How significant do you believe this possibility is?"_

_"Negligible. Rachel had said herself that her father did inflict her injuries."_

_"The defense's testimony suggests that Rachel's story may be inaccurate. As her rescuer - and one cannot deny that she _was_ rescued, even if we debate what and who she was rescued from -" he quickly added before the defense could object, "you have a particular bond with her. Do you believe this is the case?"_

_"I do not. I believe that there are only three possibilities in this situation. One, and this is the only one I believe is significant, Rachel is telling the truth. Two, Rachel's memory of events is incorrect. Expert witnesses will testify later on the improbability of this. Or three, Rachel is lying. I believe that is highly unlikely."_

_"Can you elaborate?"_

_"Children are not born with a knowledge of deception and dishonesty. In fact, anyone who has spent time around young children knows that they have a tendency to be very honest and candid. In some ways, one might say that young children are the most moral citizens among us because they always tell the truth. For a six-year-old to come up with such an elaborate story on her own is extremely unlikely, and I can vouch for the fact that no one has had a chance to 'coach' this child in whatever plot the defense may claim their client is a victim of. All the clues point to the first option being the only realistically possible one. Rachel is telling the truth."_

_"Thank you, Captain. No further questions."_

_"You may step down," the judge said from the podium._

"They questioned the doctors who had examined Jessie, all of whom testified that she had marks of years-old abuse." Picard sighed. "I was told by those same doctors that unless medical technology makes some major steps forward she'll have scars from the abuse for the rest of her life."

He stared into space for a moment before abruptly coming back. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought. What was I saying? Oh, yes. They also testified that she showed no signs of physical memory alteration, which is very difficult to hide from today's medical equipment. The doctor who'd performed Mrs. Akman's autopsy testified that the point of impact of the fatal blow matched Jessie's story and that she had marks similar to her daughter's, suggesting long-term abuse. A top child psychologist testified that Jessie was not only old enough to tell fact from fiction - and thus positively identify her attacker - but that even very young children are capable of creating and retaining memories, especially if those memories involve traumatic events. In other words, despite being only three at the time, it was possible and even probable that she really did remember seeing her mother killed."

"Wait - she was only three?" Tasha broke in. "That would mean she was living with her father for -"

"Two years, seven months, eighteen days, and about twenty hours" he finished, laughing despite himself as she gaped at his Data-like answer. "Oh, trust me, I usually don't remember things that well, but that's one figure I'll never forget."

"Never mind that, how in the name of the galaxy did you come up with it in the first place?"

"The date and time I rescued her minus the approximate date and time of Anna-Rose Akman's death from her autopsy report. Maybe I'd spent too much time around Data. At any rate, I wanted to know."

"Did Jessie ever testify for herself?"

"Yes. She was the last witness, by design of course. Our ace in the hole.

_"Please state your full name for the record."_

_"Rachel Jessica Akman." She spelled it unprompted, just as she had that day in the hospital, and Jean-Luc couldn't help a small smile as the prosecutor approached her._

_"Miss Akman, on the night of October 23rd, 2361, you were admitted to Bethune Memorial Hospital for severe injuries. Please tell this court how you acquired them."_

_"My daddy hit me with a branch from a tree."_

_"Was this the first time he'd hit you?"_

_"No. He didn't usually use the tree branch though. Usually he just used his hands or a belt."_

_"Where were you when Captain Picard found you?"_

_"Outside. Daddy made me go outside and put the collar on me."_

_"Why did he do that?"_

_"I was going down the stairs and I tripped and fell and it made noise and woke Daddy up, so he put me outside until I could learn to be quiet in the house."_

_Jean-Luc felt like he'd been slapped. He'd never heard what it was she had done to supposedly warrant the punishment that had been inflicted on her that last time._

_"When did he start hitting you?"_

_"After Mommy went away."_

_"Can you tell me what happened the last time you saw your mother?"_

_Jessie told her story just as she had to Jean-Luc. What she couldn't see and he could was that several of the jurors had tears in their eyes just hearing it._

_"Thank you. No further questions."_

_The woman on the defense team stood. "Miss Akman, how old are you?"_

_"Six years old."_

_"Tell me, do you forget things sometimes?"_

_"Yes."_

_"I want you to think very carefully. Is it possible that someone else hit you and you forgot?"_

_"No. It was Daddy."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Absolutely?"_

_"Objection! Counsel is badgering the witness."_

_"Sustained. You have an answer to your question. There is no purpose in asking her to re-confirm it."_

_"How old were you the last time you saw your mother?"_

_"Three years old."_

_"Other than what you've already told this court, can you remember anything that happened that same day? Say, before you went to bed?"_

_"No."_

_"What about the day before?"_

_"No."_

_"Then how can you be sure you remember exactly what happened that night?"_

_"I don't know. I just do."_

_"And where did you say you were when it all happened?"_

_"Under a table."_

_"About how tall was that table?"_

_She stood slowly and indicated the object's approximate height in relation to herself._

_"So a little less than a meter. Your father is about two meters tall. How can you be absolutely sure of what you saw?"_

_"They were far away. And I was looking up."_

_"Are you absolutely sure that the face you saw was your father's?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Even with all those barriers that would have prevented you from seeing him clearly?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Listen to me very carefully. What you have described is a very serious charge that could mean your father going away for the rest of his life. Because of that, I have to be absolutely sure. Was it your father you saw hitting your mother? Think carefully before you answer."_

_A pause. Then ,"yes."_

_"No further questions."_

_"Would the prosecution like to redirect?"_

_"One question only. Miss Akman, you told me you couldn't remember things on specific days around the last time you saw your mother. Before that last day, do you remember doing things with your mother? Spending time with her?"_

_"Yes."_

_"No further questions."_

"Sounds like she really was brave."

"Tell me about it. The moment she was out of that courtroom she broke down completely and wouldn't stop crying for hours. That defense attorney really tore into her hard.

"The defense called a couple of people to testify on behalf of Mr. Akman's character, and another psychologist who claimed that a child might have projected a familiar face onto an unfamiliar stranger, but the prosecutor tore much more effective holes in their testimonies than the defense had torn in ours. She stomped them in closing remarks too. It was actually quite entertaining to watch.

_"Let me begin by saying that the defense does not question the nature of the crimes as described by the prosecution. Was Rachel Akman beaten and chained? Yes. The defense does not argue this point. Was Anna-Rose Carter Akman beaten and murdered? Yes. The defense does not argue this point either._

_"Did Richard Akman commit these crimes? That is the crux of this matter, and the key point of division between the prosecution and myself. The standard of proof in this court is, as we all know, that the defendant must be shown to be guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. I submit that the prosecution has demonstrated no hard evidence of these facts. Make no mistake, I do not believe that Rachel Akman ever lied or intentionally deceived anyone. But she is young, and children's minds are not the same as their adult counterparts. I have no doubt that she believes she saw her father beat her, but that is not the same as solid proof. The testimony is based on a series of uncorroborated statements and a lot of circumstantial evidence. Nothing the prosecution has said has solidly linked Mr. Akman to the crimes committed. Mr. Akman is, in fact, as much a victim as his own daughter." He turned to the judge. "The defense rests."_

_The defense attorney sat down and the prosecutor stepped up._

_"The defense's case is based on speculation and faulty science. They would like to make this court believe that Rachel Akman invented her father's part in the events of her life. The prosecution has already demonstrated that this is unlikely to be true. Children, even children of Miss Akman's age, are fully capable of remembering the events of their lives, especially when those memories are traumatic._

_"The defense submits that Miss Akman mentally projected her father's face onto a stranger. Aside from the fact that this is extremely unlikely based on a psychological evaluation of Miss Akman, the injuries to both Miss Akman and her mother were sustained over a long period of time. In order for the defense's theory to hold water, one would have to be willing to believe that both women were assaulted multiple times, in at least one case over the course of years, by some stranger, and that the defendant did not then notice the recurring injuries to his wife or daughter. Is this remotely possible? Yes. But is it probable? I submit that it is not. The defense says that Mr. Akman is a victim. Mr. Akman made victims of his wife and daughter. He, himself, was never a victim. The prosecution rests."_

"It took the jury only two hours to find him guilty on all counts. Two life sentences, no chance of parole, for killing his wife and abusing his daughter. He'll never get out."

"But what happened to Jessie?"

"The placement with me had always been temporary. Once the trial was over, Child Services wanted to place her in a permanent home as soon as possible. They asked me first if I'd like to adopt, and that was when I did it."

"Did what?"

"I told them I'd think it over. The next day, I called back and said no."

"What? Why?"

"Natasha, I have always been, first and foremost, a Starfleet Captain. I've never been entirely comfortable with the idea of children aboard a starship heading into all sorts of unknown dangers, and the idea of putting a child I'd come to care for and love into that sort of danger seemed unconscionable. At that point, I was even more uncertain; it was only beginning to be tested. And then there's the fact that I'm Captain. I've escaped death by a hair a hundred times, and I've brought the bodies of dead officers back to their families. She'd already been through so much, I couldn't have her become comfortable with me and then lose that too. No, I had to make sure she got a stable, safe home, even if it meant giving her up. In fact, that's a good part of the reason I've always been uncomfortable around children. I was to some degree before that, but afterward every child I looked at reminded me of what I could have had." He took a deep breath as though struggling not to burst into tears. "January eighth, 2362. That was the last time I saw her.

_"But why do I have to go away?" Jessie pleaded, wide eyes fixed on him. "I wanna stay with you, Uncle Johnny."_

_"I know you do, _ma cherie. _But I have to go back to my ship, and it isn't safe for you to come with me."_

_She threw her arms around his neck. "I love you,Uncle Johnny."_

_"And I love you." Tears pricked at his eyes. Did she have to make this even harder than it already was?_

_"Can I see you sometimes?"_

_A lump caught in his throat. He'd already asked that question of Child Services, and he knew she wouldn't be pleased with the answer. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Because some people are worried that your daddy might have friends who could be mad at you for telling on him. They want to hide you where the bad people can't find you, and because I talked at the trial they know I'm connected to you, so if I visited they would be able to find you. We don't want anyone to ever hurt you like your daddy did. I'm truly sorry, Jessie."_

_The little arms around him tightened. "I wish you could have been my daddy."_

_"So do I." He pulled something out of the bag. It was the rabbit that had been on her bed the very first day. "Did I ever tell you why I gave you a rabbit?"_

_"No."_

_"There's a very old story, Jessie, about a rabbit very much like this one." He checked the clock, determining that he had time to tell a slightly abridged version of the story before she would be picked up by the Child Services people. "This Rabbit was given to a little boy as a present on a very special day, and the boy liked him a lot. But then the boy's family came and brought more presents, and the little boy became so excited he forgot all about the poor rabbit. So for some years, the Rabbit lived with the boy's other toys, and no one really paid attention to him. But one day, one of the other toys told him that if a toy is loved enough, it could become Real. _

_"But the Rabbit was never played with, and so he thought he could never become Real. But one day the Boy lost his favorite toy, and the woman who took care of the boy gave him the rabbit to sleep with instead. And the Boy grew to love the Rabbit, and the Rabbit to love the boy. And then, one night, something incredible happened. The woman who took care of the Boy had had to go get the Rabbit from outside, and she was most annoyed. 'Fancy all that fuss for a toy!' she said. _

_"'Give me my Bunny!' he said. 'You mustn't say that. He isn't a toy. He's REAL!' And the rabbit knew the magic had happened, and he was Real. But that summer, he saw two other rabbits, rabbits who moved and turned and jumped in odd ways. And they asked him to play, but he could not because of the way his legs were. And the rabbits looked at him, and they laughed. 'He isn't a rabbit at all! He isn't real!'_

_"'I am Real!' said the little Rabbit. 'I am Real! The Boy said so!' But the other rabbits ran away, and he sat by himself. But he began to feel better soon, because the Boy loved him and took him everywhere. And then, one day, something terrible happened. The Boy became very ill, and strange people came and went, and the Rabbit was forced to lie very still so that no one would see him and try to take him away. Slowly, the Boy got better, and the Rabbit was excited, because they were going to go to the seaside and the Rabbit had never been there._

_"But then the doctor ordered that the nursery be disinfected. Now, this was a very long time ago, and there were no machines to disinfect things. Instead, anything that might have germs on it had to be burned. The woman who took care of the Boy found the Rabbit on his bed and the doctor said that it must be burned too."_

_Jessie's eyes were huge, but she said nothing, as though she didn't want to put the story on hold long enough to speak._

_"The Rabbit was placed in a sack outside with the Boy's other toys, and he was very, very sad. He was so sad that a tear - a real tear! - trickled down his cheek. And then a miraculous thing happened. Where the tear had been, a little flower grew. And out of the flower came a fairy. And she told him that she was the fairy who took care of all animals who were loved, and that she was there to make him Real. And he said '"Wasn't I Real before?'_

_"'You were Real to the Boy,' the Fairy said, 'because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to every one.' And she took him in her arms and brought him to a special land, and then she kissed him. And suddenly, he found that he had a body just like the rabbits he had seen that day in the garden._

_"And one day, when the Boy was playing outside, he saw two rabbits. . One of them was brown all over, but the other had strange markings under his fur, as though long ago he had been spotted, and the spots still showed through. And about his little soft nose and his round black eyes there was something familiar, so that the Boy thought to himself: _Why, he looks just like my old Bunny that was lost when I had scarlet fever! _But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real. _

_"Now you have a Rabbit of your own, Jessie. As long as you love him, he will love you, and he will carry my love for you as well. And I do love you, so very much."_

_The door chimed, and Jessie looked at him with wide eyes. "Is that them?"_

_"Yes." He gently untangled himself from her and took her face in his hands. "Now, I want you to promise me something. Promise me you'll be a good girl for your new family."_

_"I promise, Uncle Johnny."_

_"That's my girl." He stood and walked to the door. It was the longest walk of his life, and it took all the strength he had to press the button to open it._

_He beckoned to Jessica, who took her small suitcase and the rabbit and walked to the door. She took one look at the people there to retrieve her, and then reached up to him._

_He bent down, lifting her into one final hug. "I love you, Uncle Johnny."_

_"And I love you, Jessie. More than you can possibly understand." He slowly set her on her feet, and one of the Child Services people took her hand._

_His last view of her was of long blond hair twirling behind the tiny body. And for years to come, he would always wonder what would have happened if he had, as he was so tempted to do, run after her._

**Don't worry, there will be a wrap-up in the next chapter.**

**The rabbit story is, regrettably, not mine. It's a children's classic.**

**Please review.**


	10. Chapter Ten: One Big Family

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Ten: One Big Family  
><strong>_

"Captain," Tasha said in shock, "you've never told me any of this. Never even _hinted_."

"It's not something I regularly discuss. In fact, Guinan's the only person on the _Enterprise _who knows. Although I must say, you're the person on that ship I've come closest to telling."

"Really? Not Will or Deanna?"

"No, though I did consider telling Deanna at one point. You wondered how I could be so understanding about your little girl, didn't you?"

"Because you knew," she realized. "You loved her as your own child."

"Not a day goes by I don't wonder what might have happened if I'd done what my heart told me and said yes when they asked. I've never been able to stop loving her, especially now."

"Now?"

"The only family I have left is my sister in law. And anyway, November fifteenth is next Monday."

"Her birthday?"

He nodded. "She'll be sixteen. Ten years since I had Guinan make that cake for her. Almost ten years since I've seen her."

"Have you ever tried to find her?"

"Child Services wanted me to sever contact with her -" he sighed and reddened a little. "But once a year had gone by, I tried. They're just too good. Any records that could possibly lead to her identity have been sealed. I understand they don't want anyone to track her down - but I don't want to hurt her. I just want to hold her. I want to be part of her life again."

"I'm sure she feels the same way."

"Who was it?"

"Who?"

"Your rescuer. From Turkana, I presume. That is who you're talking about, is it not?"

"Kate Pulaski."

"So that's what you meant when you said she saved your life." He smiled at her stunned expression. "I may not be Mr. Data, but I don't forget things easily."

"I suppose not, Captain. Speaking of which, do you happen to be aware of Data and Geordi's whereabouts?"

"No, why?"

"Because they went off somewhere - I'm not even sure where - with no explanation except that there was something they had to do and it was secret. I'm supposed to meet them at seventeen hundred hours, they promised an unveiling."

"I am as much in the dark as you, Natasha. And, I must confess, as curious. But I don't believe you have much time to wait."

"What do you mean?"

"It's sixteen-forty hours now."

Tasha's eyes went wide. "I've been here for over two hours! God, I thought it was much earlier." She turned. "Want to come? You can figure out what's going on at the same time I do."

He grinned. "I'd love to."

xxxxxxxxx

"There." Tasha's eyes were instantly drawn to a familiar head. "That's Data, but," she strained to see further, "I don't see Geordi anywhere."

"You're certain?"

"With his VISOR, he's not that hard to pick out of a crowd." But she didn't have much time to keep speculating, because Data had seen her and hurried up.

"Hey," she said, greeting him with a hug and a light kiss. "Where's your partner in crime? And what's this big surprise you've kept me waiting for?"

"Take a look." He gestured to the man standing behind him - an oddly familiar, dark-skinned man with gray-blue eyes.

"So?" She was still baffled, and by the look on Picard's face, she wasn't the only one. Then the man grinned, and Tasha's jaw dropped as she recognized him.

"_Geordi?_"

"Like it? Latest technology." Now that he'd started smiling, he couldn't stop. "They do more even than my VISOR, and now I don't get those headaches. That and I don't stand out from a mile away."

"I love it!" she hugged him enthusiastically. "Captain?"

"It suits you, Mr. La Forge."

Geordi grinned even broader. "Just don't tell anyone. I want it to be a surprise."

"When exactly do you plan on doing the surprise?" Tasha asked. She couldn't see when they'd get the chance.

"Oh, didn't Data tell you?"

"I have not had the opportunity."

"Oh. Well, two weeks from yesterday, the twenty-fifth, we've all been invited over to Commander Riker's old house in Alaska. Some ancient tradition called Thanksgiving."

"A most intriguing tradition, begun in the year -"

"Thank you, Data."

Tasha frowned, confused. It had been ages since he'd - wait, was he _smirking_?

"You did that on purpose!"

"Guilty as charged." The android made an exaggerated bow, and both Tasha and Geordi burst out laughing. Even Picard smiled.

"November twenty-fifth," she said once she had her breath back. "I look forward to it."

xxxxxxxxx

"Will, can your house _fit_ everyone? And just who is everyone anyway?"

"There aren't that many people coming." He shrugged, grinning disarmingly.

"Then why did you cook for two dozen?"

"Tradition! And who am I to fly in the face of tradition?"

Tasha only laughed silently at the dispute between their host and his former girlfriend. She leaned over to tap Data on the shoulder. "When?" she whispered.

"Approximately fifteen minutes. He wishes for the rest of the guests to arrive first."

"Tasha!"

She spun on her heel at the familiar voice and then ran to embrace the woman who had called her name. "Kate! I didn't realize you were coming."

"Kyle invited me. Have you seen him?"

"No." She laughed. "I've never heard of 'Thanksgiving' before."

"Old American holiday. I asked Data."

"How is Data? I heard about his, ah, upgrade."

"He's taking it all in stride, and I'm seeing new sides of him. He actually gets jokes now, can hit the timing and everything. He understands _fun_. He has a great laugh, too, now that he can find things funny."

"Tasha." Data had appeared behind them and he extended one hand, all fingers out. She nodded, grinning.

"What was that all about?"

"You'll see. Oh, by the way -" she nudged Kate's shoulder and pointed at the man who'd just entered the room.

Kate grinned. "If you'll excuse me..."

"Of course."

The door swung open again, and Beverly and the Captain stepped in. "Is this everyone?" he asked.

"Everyone but Geordi," Will answered. "Worf's not coming."

"Why not?"

"He's gone on some sort of retreat to Boreth, the Klingon planet," Tasha said, joining the conversation. "He, uh, didn't take what happened with the _Enterprise_ very well."

"I noticed him acting strangely on the _Farragut_. I guess I didn't look too deeply into it." Picard frowned. "But what's he done with his son?"

"Alexander's living with his parents again."

Picard sighed. "It can't be good for a child, being bounced around like that."

"I didn't know you knew so much about children."

Tasha caught Picard's eye and looked away just as quickly.

"Just speculating."

"Uh-huh."

A knock on the door startled everyone. Tasha glanced over at Data, who nodded, smiling.

Tasha opened the door and stepped back, unable to conceal her own grin. Silence fell over the room as everyone else tried to process what they were seeing, while Data and Tasha were consumed by giggles and even Picard was laughing lightly.

It was impossible to say who broke the silence first. Geordi was instantly swarmed by his friends, hugged, slapped on the back, and congratulated. It was a good five minutes before he freed himself from the crowd, at which point he promptly pulled Tasha aside.

"Hey, Tasha, can I ask you something?"

"Fire away."

"Well, you know I've been trying to help Leah through everything that happened with her husband, and recently we've been, uh, starting to move beyond that."

"Yeah, you told me. So?"

"Well, some guy who had a son on _Voyager_ has invited her and her kids, along with a bunch of other _Voyager _families, to come to some sort of Christmas get-together, and Leah asked me to come with her, she's worried she won't know anyone, and I sound exactly like Reg Barclay, don't I?"

"You're not at that point yet," Tasha laughed. "What's the trouble?"

"I'm just not sure what I'm in for. And what will people say? She's been a widow for four months, I don't want anyone treating her like she's some sort of - you know - for dating so soon."

"For God's sake, Geordi, it's not like you're planning to marry her. You're her date to an event. If anyone does make a scene, that's their problem, not yours. If you want to go, go."

"Thanks. I think I will."

xxxxxxxxx

"Admiral?"

He sighed. "Yes?"

"There's a woman out here asking to speak with you. She says it's urgent."

"Very well. Show her in." _What now_?

"Hello, Admiral."

"Tasha!" He looked up suddenly. "This is a pleasant surprise. Please, sit down."

"I meant to see you earlier but couldn't find the time. Starfleet Command's keeping me busy."

"I hope you will be able to get off for Christmas? It's been a long time since you came to one of our get-togethers."

"Well, I don't know, but there is someone in Starfleet Command who might be sympathetic to my plight -"

Paris laughed. "I'll see what I can do. This is going to be a big one."

"How's that?"

"I've invited the families of most of the Voyager crew. I've asked them to get hotel rooms, there's no way even that big house can sleep that many people, but they'll still be around for the meals and the days."

"Oh, that's you!" At his puzzled look, she backtracked. "I heard through the grapevine that someone was hosting dinner for the Voyager families."

"Yes, that's me. Us, really. It was Julia's idea. Oh, and Tasha, I meant to tell you. You're welcome to bring a guest if you want to."

"But I _am_ the guest."

"No, you're family. Don't forget that."

"Aye, sir."

**Next up, Christmas in January. Not quite as much fun as Christmas in July but I write the scenes when I get to them.**

**Please review.**


	11. Chapter Eleven: A Family Christmas

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Eleven: A Family Christmas**_

"Are you sure you've got all that?"

Data hoisted the bags expertly. "Yes, I am certain. In addition, this is the sixth time you have asked. If it had been a problem, I would have mentioned it on one of the other five occasions.

"Fair point. I'm just a little on edge, I guess."

"What reason do you have to be nervous? You told me this is not the first time you have been to one of these events."

"This is different. Those times, I was just Tom's guest. I wasn't family. I mean, I _was_, but I didn't _know_ I was and niether did they. I haven't met most of these people since I found out I was related to them."

"You are still the same person you were before."

"Thanks, Data. Now, should we get to it?"

"We would be over an hour earlier than we said we would."

"You have a better idea?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. You did tell me that Admiral Paris insists on separate bedrooms for unmarried couples?"

"Yes, I did."

"In that case, I believe our time might be better spent - making up for lost time in advance?"

"Oh, Data. I like the way you think."

And that was the last thing either of them said for awhile.

xxxxxxxxx

"How far from the house are we?"

"Only about a hundred meters. The ground's too uneven, this is the closest safe beam-in site."

"I see what you meant when you said you did not believe you were overdressed."

"The first time I came, I was horribly underdressed. I almost froze between here and the house. Lucky you don't get cold."

A loud shriek cut through the air, and they glanced at each other.

"That didn't sound good. Can you tell where it's coming from?"

"That way." He took off, Tasha at his heels.

They found the problem quickly. Geordi was crouched beside Leah Brahms, who was grimacing in pain, the source of the shrieking a baby in her arms. An older boy, maybe four years old, stood nearby, also crying. Not one of the four was wearing weather-appropriate clothes."

"What happened?" Tasha shouted, coming to kneel down next to her friend.

"I'd ask what on Earth you were doing here if I wasn't so glad to see you. She slipped on ice and hurt her ankle. It's at least twisted, may be broken, I can't tell, but she can't walk and we weren't expecting it to be this cold. No one's happy right now."

"Leah." She got the woman's attention. "Remember me?"

"Y-yeah," she shivered.

"All right. Let me take the baby."

Leah slowly handed over the screaming baby, and Tasha slid off her scarf and wrapped the child in it. The screaming decreased slightly in volume, and Tasha held the bundle closer.

"Data, you help Leah to the house. Geordi, why don't you grab this nice young man and join us?"

"No argument there," he said through chattering teeth as Data lifted Leah to an upright position. It spoke to the amount of time Geordi had been spending around Leah's family that the child allowed himself to be picked up without so much as a squeak of protest or a second of hesitation, and they hurried the rest of the way to the house.

Tasha had no sooner rapped on the door than it swung open and Julia Paris stepped into the frame. "Dear God, what happened here?"

"Leah slipped on ice coming up here, hurt her ankle," Tasha explained, "and I think the whole brigade's half-frozen."

"You're one to talk, my dear. You weren't exactly dressed for the weather the first time you came. Well, don't just stand there. Come in." She ushered the troupe through the door. "You can set her on the couch, my daughter's a doctor, I'll have her take a look. Moira! _Moira! _Tasha, I can take the baby."

"It's all right, I've got him - her -" she looked over at Geordi.

"Him."

"I've got him." She rocked the still-crying baby in her arms. "There, there. Everything's going to be okay. You're nice and warm and Mommy's just fine, see?"

The boy stopped crying and lay still in her arms. Then his eyes closed and he was instantly asleep. She handed the child back to Leah, who by now was lying on a couch in the living room.

"Just a strain," Moira pronounced. "No broken bones or torn tissue. I'll give you something to help the healing, and just stay off it for a couple of hours, okay?"

"Tasha, could I have a word with you?" Julia stepped briefly into the sitting room.

"Yes, of course." She followed the older woman back into the kitchen. "What do you need?"

"Tasha, can I ask a personal question?"

"Of course."

"It's about your date. What - what exactly _is _he?"

"He's an android." Tasha figured she shouldn't have been surprised. A lot of people weren't quite sure how to react to Data at first.

"You mean - he's not real?"

"He's not an organic lifeform, no. Though he looks real enough to me."

"Can I ask you why you invited - him?"

At least Julia hadn't said "it." She was trying. "Your husband told me to bring a guest."

"Yes, of course. But why an android?"

"Data's more than just an android. He's a person, and more importantly he's the man I love."

This stunned Julia. "An artificial lifeform?"

"He's a _person_," she repeated. "Listen, I don't expect you to pretend he's no different from anyone else. But - get to know him before you judge him."

Julia smiled. "Now, that I can do."

"So, who all is coming anyway?"

"Pretty much all the _Voyager_ crew's families - Owen and I invited everyone, and most of them accepted. A lot of adults, a handful of kids - I think Leah's baby's the youngest of that crowd by a bit, although there are a few family members that size. Most of the people who you probably remember from your last visits, some of them with dates, spouses and even kids of their own. Remember little Monica?"

"The girl who used to follow me around like a shadow?"

"She just got married in October."

"Wow. I feel old."

Julia laughed. "Natalia's coming too. It'll be the first one she's been to since your mother got married and left Earth."

"Really?"

"For a long time, she blamed Owen and me for going along with the wedding and didn't want to see either one of us. Then we lost contact with Eva and she didn't interact much with anyone. She was sad and she isolated herself. Frankly, Tasha, she's been better these last four years than she had been in a long time. Having you around has done wonders for her." Julia sighed. "Though I must admit, I think I understand her better now than I ever did."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

"That's all right, dear." Julia wiped at her eyes. "It's just - I don't think you can understand. Losing a child isn't like losing anyone else. No matter how much you hate it, you know you're probably going to outlive your parents and maybe your siblings, but no mother expects to outlive her baby."

Tasha swallowed hard at the flood of memories this brought back.

"It's the worst thing in the world, Tasha. I pray you never have to understand that."

That broke her completely. She burst into tears, covering her face with her hands. She felt the floor under her knees but wasn't at all sure how it had gotten there. All she knew was that Julia was right, it _was_ the worst thing in the world, and she wanted her baby girl as she'd wanted her for twenty years.

She became faintly aware of a hand on her shoulder, a soft voice asking her what was wrong. She turned into the body attached to the hand and voice, something in the back of her mind telling her that this person was okay, would help her.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? What is it?"

A million things went through Tasha's head. What was _right_? It was probably a shorter list.

"I want my girl," she sobbed finally.

"I don't understand." Julia held the woman helplessly. What was Tasha asking for?

"I want my girl," she whimpered again. "I want my baby."

"Tasha," she said slowly, "you don't have a baby."

"You think I don't know that? Would I be crying like this if I had her?"

Julia slowly ran the conversation backwards in her head. What Tasha had been saying through her tears, what they'd been talking about right before she started crying - "Sweetheart, are you trying to tell me you had a child?"

"For about a day and a half."

"What happened?"

"She was early, like Tom and Patrick." She vividly remembered Kathleen's early labor with her first child. "Where I come from, there wasn't technology to save her."

"Where you - I thought you were fifteen when you left."

"I was. I was fourteen when she was born."

This shocked Julia completely. "But -"

"It's not like I had much choice in the matter," she said bitterly.

"Oh, you poor dear." She hugged Tasha tightly, reading her implication clearly. "Just let it out, darling."

"I want my baby," she sobbed again.

"So do I, Tasha. So do I." And then she had to stop talking because she was too choked up.

xxxxxxxxx

"Hey! Cut that out!"

Geordi's protest might have sounded better if he hadn't been laughing so hard. Four-year-old George Carey had teamed up with five-year-old Joanna Jensen and six-year-old Lisa Dudley to pelt snowballs at the engineer, who appeared to be taking it all in stride.

"You'd never guess they barely knew their uncle," Moira remarked to Tasha. "Annie! Play nice!" she added as her daughter pushed her cousin out of the way for better position. "I'm starting to think Kathy and I might have made a mistake letting them grow up together."

"Was that what Tom was like growing up?"

"Growing up? I don't think he ever outgrew it."

Tasha laughed at the memories that brought back. It was true, really. It was also the first time she'd remembered Tom with laughter instead of tears.

"Does he have kids?" Moira asked, pulling Tasha back to the present.

"Who?"

"Your friend." She pointed to Geordi, who was now swinging Joanna in a circle, pretending he was going to throw the laughing child into a snowbank. "He's good with them."

"No, he's just like that. Though he's been spending a lot of time with your daughter's new friend."

"And his mother."

"Right."

"It's going to be hard for those kids, especially the baby. Growing up without a father."

"Look very carefully." She pointed at Geordi, who was now giving George the same treatment he'd given both the girls. "You really think they're going to grow up without a father?"

"No," Moira admitted. "I guess not."

xxxxxxxxx

"Tell me everything. I want to hear the whole last few years."

Tasha had to admit that Julia was right. Natalia Paris definitely looked more alive and even younger than she had when Tasha had first met her.

"Where do I start? A lot's happened in the past few years."

"Such as?"

"If it _could_ happen, it probably did. Frankly, if it _couldn't_ happen I wouldn't necessarily rule it out. Not a dull moment on the Federation flagship, I'll say that much."

"What do you mean if it couldn't have happened it may have? I may not be in Starfleet like you or my Eugene, but I do know that the laws of physics can't be broken."

"They shouldn't be, but they _are_. I've given up even trying to explain it, but more than a few things have happened to us I would have said were impossible. My Captain was a science officer, he was as much at a loss as I was."

A knock on the door startled both of them, and Julia hurried past them to answer it. When she opened the door, it was so silent that Tasha thought it must have not been a knock at all, but just some illusion or a stray branch. But then she heard Julia say "Your mother said you weren't coming."

"My mother does not speak for me," said a surprisingly familiar voice.

"I - apparently not. Please, come in."

"Excuse me a minute," Tasha said to her grandmother before standing up to welcome the new arrival.

Asil's long black hair was streaked white with snow, and the back of her coat was similarly coated. Tasha noticed with a small snicker that she had dressed properly, no doubt having done things the Vulcan way and looked up the probable weather conditions ahead of time.

"Fall down?" she asked innocently.

Asil glanced behind Julia to see the woman standing further in, and Tasha would have sworn she saw her shoulders relax a fraction. "I was - accosted by several young children."

"Oh, not again," Julia said wearily. "I'll tell them to settle down."

"That will not be necessary. I was not injured, and I have observed in my time around humans that those that are allowed to - how do you say, run wild? - under controlled circumstances are often the healthiest and the most content."

Julia looked a little taken aback, but also pleasantly surprised. She looked back at Tasha, who just smiled.

xxxxxxxxx

"You and your mother still aren't speaking?"

"I tried, Tasha. I contacted her, but she terminated our conversation when I refused to concede that I was in the wrong during our last encounter, she terminated the communication. I believe that in order to reestablish communication with her, I would be required to leave Starfleet, or at least to take a leave and immerse myself in traditional studies. I do not wish it, and I do not believe Father would have either."

"No, I don't think so."

"I do not _enjoy_ this dilemma. However, a choice had to be made. I am making it."

"I know this can't be easy for you, but if he were here, I'm confident he'd say you're making the right choice. And so do I."

"That means a great deal, coming from you."

"I meant all of it."

xxxxxxxxx

"What's wrong?" Tasha asked Julia. The _Voyager _guests had left over the course of the past few hours, but she seemed anxious, even though she was alone in the kitchen.

"Oh, it's nothing serious, just a little problem."

"Maybe I can help." Tasha sat down at the kitchen table, her manner inviting Julia to do the same. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

"Well, it's that young Vulcan woman. Not her fault, of course, but her mother made it quite clear to me that none of the family were planning to come. I wasn't aware she and her daughter were -"

"Fighting?" Tasha offered.

"Well, I would have put it more diplomatically, but basically yes."

"So what's the problem?"

"Well, I'd spoken to all the families, asked them to provide gifts for each other. I could replicate something for her, that's not a problem, but I have no idea what she'd like, and I have a feeling her mother wouldn't appreciate a call - if she'd even tell me what I want to know."

"You're right. She wouldn't."

"Oh, you know her?"

"I thought I did." She tried to sound dismissive, but the idea that the woman whose house she had lived in, who had nursed her back to health when she was sick, now resented her stung a lot.

"I won't ask."

"I appreciate that."

"But what about the gifts? She can't be the only person left with nothing."

"What is it you need?"

"Just some ideas. A sense of what she might be interested in."

"Well, why didn't you just say so?"

xxxxxxxxx

"What are you doing sitting over here?"

"I expect nothing. It would not be productive to immerse myself in - that," she indicated the literal pileup of people, "in order to search for something I will not find."

"You seem very sure."

"I overheard other members of the _Voyager_ group in conversation. Family members brought items for each other. Since no one even knew I was coming, they will not have brought items."

Tasha shrugged and threw herself back into the pile. It wasn't long before she came up with what she was looking for. Then again, she knew right where it was, having placed it herself.

"Looks like you were wrong." She tossed the package into her sister's lap.

"There must be some error."

"Hardly likely. I wrapped it myself. Now go on, open it."

She peeled back a corner of the paper to reveal a heavy, square silver object. "I do not comprehend."

"Keep opening it," Tasha urged, still smiling.

She pulled the paper completely off. The item turned out to be a picture frame. Inside was a holo-image, twenty by thirty inches. The picture depicted Tasha some years earlier in her Academy graduation clothes. A nine-year-old Asil was cradled in her arms where she'd ended up after Tasha supposedly scooped her out of the way of foot traffic. Her father stood behind Tasha, and her mother off to one side. It was clear from the fact that only Tasha was looking at the camera that the other three didn't have the faintest idea they were being photographed.

"Where did you obtain this?" she asked, shocked.

"Well, actually it wasn't that hard. Years ago, I had Tom Paris take that picture when you three weren't paying attention, just to have, but I forgot to get it from him before he shipped out. Actually, I'd almost forgotten about it, but when Julia mentioned to me that she didn't have a gift for you, it occurred to me." She placed one hand over Asil's. "Let this help you to remember how it used to be."

Asil's eyes met hers. "Thank you, Tasha. For all of this."

**A lot of loose ends being sort of tied together in this chapter. Hope I did it well!**

**Please review.**


	12. Chapter Twelve: Problem and Solution

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twelve: Problem and Solution**_

"Excuse me, sir?"

The team leader, a recent full commander, barely spared her a glance. "What do you want, Ensign?"

"I observed that we are encountering difficulty with the emergency backup systems for the _Sovereign-_class starship."

"Yeah," he acknowledged. "What's it to you?"

"I believe I may have come up with a solution."

"What did you say?" she had his full attention now.

"I believe I may have come up with a solution to the problem, sir."

"You." He eyed her skeptically. "You mean the team?"

"I mean me."

"Right. Let me tell you something, Ensign. You may think those pointy ears and upswept eyebrows give you superiority, but the truth is you're the greenest person on this team and we both know it. Do us both a favor, Ensign. Take your solution and forget about it. The designers and lead engineers, of which I am one, can solve this problem without your help."

"But sir -"

"Are you always so contrary?"

"I try not to be. However -"

"Listen, Captain Scott himself is coming to inspect us tomorrow. Do us all a favor and keep your mouth shut."

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"...everything's going quite well for the most part, though the _Sovereign-_class is still being held up by that problem with the emergency systems -"

"Excuse me, Captain." She wasn't at all sure why she was defying orders from a senior officer, except that Scott and the others were clearly desperate for the answer she could provide.

"Ensign?"

"I have a theory on how to solve this problem."

The Commander opened his mouth, most likely to shut her up, but the Captain spoke first. "Really?" He sounded impressed more than skeptical. "Let's see it."

"If I may?" She indicated the terminal, and Captain Scott nodded. "The problem is that when you try to switch the primary power relays to emergency backups, it overloads and incapacitates other key systems."

"Exactly. But unfortunately, everything is too well interwoven. Try to reassign that power and something else goes wrong."

"Yes. However, if you -" her fingers were flying over the console - "realign the entire power relay system like so -"

The computer console beeped. "_Data input. Parameters of design altered to conform."_

"Hypothetical situation. Primary power failure. Switch to emergency backups. Analyze any potential effects on unrelated systems."

"_Working. No effects to unrelated systems detected._"

"Computer, detailed analysis. Compare to records of all starships engaged in battle in the past ten years. Analyze all system commands. Hypothetical situation, no damage to ship's systems. Would any command or series of commands given cause an adverse reaction in any unrelated system on board ship?"

"_Working._"

It seemed that everyone in the room was holding their breath.

"_Negative. No adverse reactions_."

A large amount of sputtering ensued. Scotty was the first to get his voice back. "By the Devil, Ensign. How in blazes did you come up with this?"

"When all traditional solutions fail, it is logical to, as humans say, return to the drawing board. I was assigned to projects that did not occupy all of my time on shift. I used the remaining time to return to the schematic and restructure the power relay system."

"I'm very sorry, Captain." The Commander had recovered his voice. "Ensign Asil is a junior member of the team. Very inexperienced. I had spoken to her on the matter of keeping her theories out of this meeting. Apparently, she did not listen."

"And a damn good thing she didn't! Commander, this solution has been eluding our team for weeks! Ensign, who else was involved in this?"

"No one, sir."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I created the solution independently."

"Ensign, can I see you privately for a moment?"

Her Commander looked smug as he indicated a hallway where they could speak privately, and she followed the legendary Captain.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why in blazes are you still an Ensign?"

"I don't understand, sir."

"Ensign, you just solved a problem that's been eluding our best engineers for weeks, _on your own_, without any support from your department. Why hasn't a person like you been promoted yet?"

Realizing he was reacting to the level of her rank and not her status as an officer, she gave him the most concise answer she could. "I do not yet have the minimum time in rank."

Much as his old shipmate had, he looked almost dazed. "Being Vulcan, I assume you're fully aware that minimum time in rank for an Ensign is only eighteen months?"

"Yes, sir. I have seven."

"Straight from the Academy?"

"Yes, sir."

It was an admiring smile that crossed his face. "Welcome to the club, Ensign."

"I'm sorry, I do not comprehend."

"You are, you realize, only the second person ever to be offered a position here out of the Academy."

"I believed I was the first." Not bragging, just stating fact.

"You were the first to accept. I decided I'd rather see the galaxy."

"You, sir."

"Aye. Your commanding officer seems irate with you."

"He resents me. He believes I am 'showing off'."

"Are ye?"

"No. I believed that Starfleet officers were expected to perform to the full extent of their capabilities. That is what I have done."

"And a damn fine capability it is. How would you like a transfer?"

"A transfer?"

"My personal team. And a provision for a promotion to Lieutenant in eleven months for solving this little problem, barring a major change of circumstances."

"For the first time in my life - I do not know what to say."

"Say yes."

"Very well. I accept."

xxxxxxxxx

"He did what?"

"He offered me a position on his personal staff."

Tasha shook her head in shock. "Tell me you said yes."

"Of course. I believe it will be what humans would call - a better fit."

"_A better fit_? That's all you can say for it?"

"It is a more prestigious position, but I was speaking on the personal level. My commanding officer at the moment is not someone I work well with. He does not respect my abilities, I believe because of my inexperience. He believes that my efforts to complete my work to the best of my abilities are merely 'showing off' and assigns me projects that do not occupy all or even most of my time on shift. It was when he refused to increase my workload that I began working on a solution to the problem with the emergency systems."

"Looks like not giving you enough work was the best thing he could have done for you."

There was no question that she had a tiny smile on her lips. "Perhaps."

xxxxxxxxx

"There is another facet of information I must convey."

"What's that, Tuvok?"

Captain Janeway was understandably upset about the discovery of Federation technology aboard an alien ship, to say nothing of the fact that the ship belonged to the Kazon, their worst enemies to date in the Delta Quadrant. They all knew that it was next to impossible for them to have gotten it from anyplace other than _Voyager_ - or, more specifically, one of Janeway's own crewmembers.

"I have additional, albeit not concrete, evidence to suggest the possible identity of the spy."

"Let's hear it."

"Several months before we arrived in the Delta Quadrant, a small Maquis ship carrying Commander Chakotay," he gave a nod in the former Maquis captain turned Starfleet first officer, "Lieutenant Torres, Ensign Seska, and myself crashed on a planet in the Badlands. A Federation ship crashed on the same planet."

"Yeah, I remember." Chakotay nodded.

"The leader of the Federation team was someone I have known for a long time and trust absolutely. She told me that she believed Ensign Seska to be a spy."

"On what grounds?" Chakotay demanded.

"A study of personal behavior. An imprecise science, but she is quite gifted in it."

"So you expect me to condemn one of my officers based on your friend's _intuition_? Has it occurred to you that she might have been feeding you false information?"

"She was aware of my own allegiances. She was attempting to convey a warning."

"Gentlemen, please." Janeway raised her hand to call for a ceasefire. "I see what both of you are saying. Tuvok, I'll take your friend's suggestion under advisement. But don't worry, Chakotay. We won't be making any accusations until we know something for sure."

xxxxxxxxx

"You really trust this woman's intuition, don't you?" B'Elanna Torres asked, somewhere between awed and irritated.

"Indeed I do, Lieutenant. It may not be a precise science, which is one of the reasons I never attempted to master it, however she is singularly gifted at it. She has, to quote her, never been wrong."

"Still, where do you learn something like that?"

"Her roommate was a psychology major."

Chakotay, Tuvok and B'Elanna turned to see the Chief Pilot standing over them. "You don't even know what we're talking about."

"I caught most of it, and I can put two and two together. I happen to know Tuvok knows my second cousin, who was trained in this art by her half-Betazoid psychology major roommate. Also known as my ex-girlfriend." He grinned. "She offered to teach me too, but I didn't have the patience. Now I'm kinda wishing I'd taken her up on it." He grew serious. "Anyway, I agree with Tuvok. If Tasha says we can't trust Seska, I'm inclined to believe that we can't trust Seska."

Tuvok gave him a small nod before turning back to the console he was reading.

xxxxxxxxx

"Well, it looks like your cousin was right after all."

"Yeah, she was."

"We won't be dealing with her hunches this whole trip, will we?"

"Chakotay, what is it you have against her?"

"You know I met her?"

"Yeah, so?"

"She's just too Starfleet. Acts like the service is her life."

"It is."

"See what I mean? People like that are the ones who tend to think that what the Maquis did was just some act of rebellion. They don't understand pain or hardship."

"That's not fair."

"Oh really?"

"You don't know Thing One about her if you think she doesn't understand pain. She spent ten years of her life living on the streets and struggling to survive. Her personal details are private, but most people would crack after going through a tenth of what she had to deal with."

"You expect me to believe that the illustrious Paris family would let a relative struggle without doing anything to help?"

"There was nothing anyone could do. Ships wouldn't go near the system, there wasn't even a way to send messages back and forth. The only thing my dad knew was that he didn't know anything, that and that his cousin was in danger, being from a powerful Federation family. The first time I met Tasha, I didn't know who she was and she didn't know who I was. We became friends in the Academy. Wasn't until years later that we finally pieced her story in with my dad's story of his cousin and figured it out. But to get back to the original point, no one who knows her could ever say that she doesn't understand struggle. She's not devoted to Starfleet because she was groomed for it, she actually believes in what Starfleet stands for."

"I suppose I misjudged her."

"If she was here, I think she'd forgive you."

They exchanged a tentative smile, possibly the first they'd ever shared.

**I know this chapter jumped around a little, but neither piece of it was long enough for its own chapter.**

**Please review.**


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Fearless Leader

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirteen: Fearless Leader**_

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Tasha grinned at her friend. "Your message sounded urgent."

"It was. Remember that promise you made to me back on the _Farragut_?"

"That I'd be your first officer?" It took her only a second to put the rest together. "You got a ship?"

"Yep." Jim's grin nearly split his face in half. "Smaller, nothing on the scale of the _Enterprise_, yours or mine. Total crew compliment of fifty - or rather, there will be a total compliment of fifty once I fill the roster. USS _Fearless_." He grinned again. "Appropriate, I'd call it. So what do you say? First tour's four weeks, leaves in eleven days."

"I'm in."

"In that case, welcome aboard."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha knew now that her friends on Deep Space Nine hadn't been exaggerating about how tiny the quarters were on a _Defiant-_class starship. As First Officer, she was entitled to her own quarters, but that didn't mean an abundance of space by any means.

One thing was clear. The _Fearless_ was not, as Tom Paris would have said, a luxury liner, as the _Enterprise_ had been. The ship was designed for action, not comfortable exploration.

For the moment, she stopped regretting the fact that she'd had to leave Data behind. The rooms were not at all big enough for two people, and she couldn't imagine them doing anything like what they would have liked to have been doing on those bunks. He'd kissed her goodbye before she'd beamed up. She'd just have to make it up to him when she got back.

xxxxxxxxx

The mess hall was about half full, mostly with people using it as a common room. A couple games of 3D chess were active, and about eight people were gathered around a table, playing poker. Tasha waited until they'd laid out their hands before making her move.

"Deal me in?"

The people unlucky enough to have had their backs to her jumped. "What? Oh, sure, Commander. Pull up a chair."

"Call me Tasha. We're off duty."

"The game is five-card draw, red eights are wild."

"Why red eights?" she asked aloud.

Everyone around the table shrugged. "Who knows?" said someone. "He likes to make up odd rules."

The hands were dealt and the betting began. She could quickly tell she wasn't playing amateurs, but Tasha had learned playing with the master himself. Not one of these men had anything on Will Riker when it came to bluffing. And the one lieutenant who was the best at the game was definitely bluffing.

"All right," said the dealer, who had folded like everyone except Tasha and the one man. "What've you got?"

"Pair of twos," he admitted with a bashful smile. "What about you?"

"Read 'em and weep." She laid her cards out on the table, revealing three kings.

He slapped the table in good-natured frustration. "Take it. Play another hand?"

"Sure, I'm in." She looked around. "Anyone else?"

Everyone paid in the ante, and another officer took the cards.

xxxxxxxxx

"Captain on the bridge!" Tasha called, rising to attention with her fellow bridge officers - all of whom looked rather starstruck. Kirk either didn't notice or was used to it; at any rate, his attention was solely focused on Tasha.

"I relieve you, Commander."

"I stand relieved."

"As you were."

The crew stood down and resumed their assignments as Kirk ran through the obligatory preflight checks. When he was finally satisfied, he nodded to the woman in the First Officer's seat. She nodded back.

"Take us out."

xxxxxxxxx

"What's going on?" Kirk, coffee in hand, stepped out of the turbolift.

"Sorry, sir. Change of plans."

"I noticed." He indicated the red alert lights flashing. "What are our orders?"

"We're supposed to head for station Deep Space Nine at maximum warp. Apparently they've got a serious problem. The Fleet's calling in everyone in the area." She stood to let him get into his chair before taking back her own at his right hand. "I've already ordered the course change and the acceleration."

"Good. Do you have details?"

"Not all of them. Apparently, they've gotten caught in the middle of a fight between the Klingons and the Cardassians."

Kirk only knew the Cardassians by reputation, but he knew they were as violent as their opponents. "Whose side are we on?"

"Apparently, Cardassia." She couldn't help grimacing a little. "I don't know why, but a Klingon fleet has surrounded the station."

"They're _supposed _to be our allies!" He hit his armrest. "I negotiated that treaty myself!"

"Maybe you can renegotiate it, because it looks like trouble."

A beep caught their attention, and the communications officer pulled it up. "Captain, message from Admiral Hastur. He says the attack's over, stand down, but they still want us there to help them mop up the mess." There was a definite smirk on his face as he read this. Who said Admirals didn't have a sense of humor?

"Tell them we're on our way. Stand down red alert."

"Standing down red alert." The tactical officer pressed a couple of buttons, the flashing stopped, and the lights came back up to normal. "Time to Deep Space Nine?"

"Twenty minutes, sir."

"Commander, I'm not quite caught up on all my history yet. What can you tell me about Deep Space Nine?"

"Deep Space Nine is a space station near the planet Bajor. Formerly the Cardassian space post Terok Nor, it was left in high orbit of Bajor when the Cardassians abandoned the planet. As part of their alliance with Bajor, the Federation took control of the station, although a high number of the personnel on their duty roster are Bajoran personnel, non-Starfleet. It's not a military post, there are a fair number of civilians living on the station. A lot of civilian-operated business. Originally intended as just another way-station, it became of key importance when the first known stable wormhole was discovered in that sector."

"The wormhole to the Gamma Quadrant. Even I've heard of it."

"Exactly. Since then, we've discovered a massive power empire on the far side, and DS9's become key. If the enemy ever does decide to invade, that station is our first and most vital line of defense. Whoever controls the station controls the wormhole, so -"

"If the station were to fall, we'd be in serious trouble. Is that why the Klingons want it?"

"On that end, I know as much as you do."

xxxxxxxxx

"What the hell happened here?" was the first question out of Tasha's mouth as soon as they stepped through the airlock.

The red-haired Bajoran woman smiled. "Right to the point, huh?"

"Yeah, sometimes." The Major seemed a lot friendlier than she had the first time Tasha met her.

"Klingons boarded the station."

"I can see that. Why are we fighting the Klingons?"

The woman's head snapped towards the man who had spoken. "And you are?"

"James T. Kirk." Tasha noticed that not one of the three Bajorans standing in the hall reacted in the slightest to the name. She filed that away to remember later. "And you are?"

"Major Kira Nerys, first officer."

"Well then, Major Nerys -"

"Major Kira," she and Tasha corrected at the same time.

When he looked befuddled, Tasha rushed to clarify. "Bajoran name order is inverted from what we're used to. It's family name first, then given name."

"Ah. Well, I'm truly sorry, Major _Kira_. I'm afraid I'm a bit behind the times."

"Huh?"

"Later," Tasha broke in. "I think we'd better speak to Commander - excuse me, _Captain_ - Sisko."

"Right this way."

xxxxxxxxx

Ben Sisko stammered incomprehensibly for several minutes, completely dazed at being in the presence of a legendary Captain. It came to a sudden and abrupt halt when Tasha and his second officer Jadzia Dax simultaneously smacked him, one on each arm. The Captain in question watched the entire scene with an expression Tasha knew meant it was taking all his self-control not to burst out laughing.

"Ah - okay." Fortunately, he took it all in good humor. "Let me bring you all up to speed. The first question, I expect, is why are we fighting the Klingons?"

There was a chorus of nods.

"Well, it goes back a bit. You're all aware of the incident involving the Romulan/Cardassian fleet and the Dominion?"

Most people nodded, but Kirk said "no."

"All right, we'll start there. Bear with me, please. About six months ago, a fleet made up of the combined secret services of Romulus and Cardassia attempted an attack on the Dominion homeworld. They failed rather miserably. The fleet was decimated."

"Okay. But what does that have to do with us fighting the Klingons?" someone else asked.

"I'm getting there. Well, with the Obsidian Order gone, a civilian resistance sprung up and overthrew the Cardassian military government. The Klingons became convinced that the coup was engineered by the Dominion. So they attacked Cardassia, and they weren't thrilled that the Federation wouldn't back them on it."

"I'm sorry," Kirk broke in, "but when you say the Dominion engineered the coup, what exactly are you talking about? From what I know of the Cardassians, they're not the type to let anyone use them as puppets."

"If I may." The station's security chief, silent until now, stepped forward and suddenly turned into a shapeless orange mass, and then took the form of a hawk. Taking off, he did one quick lap of the room as the others watched and then landed and turned back into a humanoid.

"The leaders of the Dominion are a race of shapeshifters," Sisko explained. "One of them could have assumed the identity of a person of some influence in the Cardassian political realm and then engineered the coup. That's what the Klingons think happened."

"Captain." This from Tasha. "Are we positive that _isn't_ what happened?"

"We had to go rescue the Cardassian Detapa Council from Klingon invasion. I had my CMO personally blood-screen each and every one of them."

"Their military adviser put up quite a fuss about it, too," Jadzia added, smirking. Tasha raised an eyebrow, and she mouthed _later_.

"Is it true they've withdrawn from the Accords?"

All the muttering and side conversations stopped like someone had thrown a switch.

"I'm afraid it is," Sisko said gravely.

"_What_?" Kirk looked completely stunned. He also looked like he might cry. "_How could they_?"

"Captain, please!" the Admiral shouted, but it didn't seem to have any effect on Kirk, who was like a bomb counting down to go off. Tasha gently took him by the arm and steered him out of the briefing room so he could blow up somewhere more private.

They hadn't made it halfway down the hall when Kirk took a swing and punched the bulkhead. He hit it again and again and she let him, only stopping him when his hand started to bleed.

He pushed against her for a moment, but the fight went out of him and his knees buckled. Tasha eased him to the floor.

"That truce was my son's legacy, Tasha. People died for it. How can they just throw it away?"

"I know, Jim." It had taken practice, but she'd perfected the art of switching back and forth between his name and his title. "Maybe we can rebuild it again."

"You think so?"

"Well, I'd say the odds are in our favor. After all, _they_ don't have one of the contract's original engineers on their side."

He didn't quite manage to smile, but his face did lift a little. "Then let's see if we can't press our advantage."

xxxxxxxxx

"What's the damage?"

"Significant, but could be worse. We evacuated most of the civilian population to Bajor and got the rest into emergency shelters. Six personnel dead and about forty wounded, but Dr. Bashir's got everything well under control."

Tasha liked Odo. He didn't beat around the bush. "How bad was it?"

"We all got a lesson in hand-to-hand combat."

"Excuse me, may I ask a question?"

"Go ahead, Captain."

"Ah - Captain Kirk, this is Odo, chief of security on the station."

"Saw your demonstration earlier. Impressive. And effective."

"Your question?"

"Right. Don't take this the wring way, but why is there a Klingon still on the station?"

"There is?" Tasha chimed in.

"Was the Klingon wearing a Starfleet uniform?"

"I didn't notice," Kirk admitted. "I was too taken aback by the fact that he was a Klingon at all."

"Well, I'm sure you know there is exactly one Klingon in Starfleet."

"I didn't." He shot a look at Tasha.

"Sorry! I'm so used to it it doesn't occur to me to point it out."

"How -"

"Later, Odo, I promise. Is Commander Worf aboard the station?"

"Well, yes."

"Why?"

"I can field that one." Tasha knew the woman without having to say her. She'd know Jadzia's voice anywhere. "Curzon once said that the only people who can understand Klingons are Klingons. Captain Sisko took that to heart."

"Curzon? Curzon Dax?"

"Yes, why?"

"I remember him from the Khitomer conference. He was a young negotiator, pretty new but I liked him. I thought he had potential."

"Really?" She sounded so excited that Tasha was surprised she didn't start jumping up and down on the spot.

"How did you know him?"

"Well I - I am him."

While Jadzia began an in-depth explanation of the Trill symbiotic relationship, Tasha pulled Odo aside. "As for why the Captain didn't know about Worf, he's been displaced in time. It's hard to explain and I don't fully understand it myself, but the easiest way to put it is that he was in a form of stasis for eighty years."

"Eighty _years_?"

"Yes. You may have noticed him getting some strange looks from the Starfleet personnel. Back in his day, he was the best-known Captain in all of Starfleet. Even today, every Cadet in the Academy knows his name."

"And you serve with him?"

"That's the interesting part. For all the hype, when it comes down to it he's just a regular guy. I'd go so far as to call him one of my closest friends."

"Excuse me, may I borrow the Commander for a moment?" A Cardassian had just walked onto the Promenade. Tasha tensed for a moment, and then relaxed when she realized who it was.

"Mr. Garak."

"You remember me. I'm flattered."

"What do you need?"

"I thought you'd like to know. A certain mutual _friend_ of ours is aboard the station."

He didn't say anything else, but he didn't have to. "Dukat? _Here?_"

"Unfortunately, he's thrown in his lot with the Detapa Council. Which means he's here as long as they are."

"And how long are they here?"

He smiled. "You'll have to ask Captain Sisko about that one."He turned. "I'd best go see what damage they've done to my shop."

"Garak."

He stopped and turned. "Yes?"

"Thanks for the heads-up."

"Oh, you know Dukat too?" Jadzia asked interestedly. "I got a free dinner thanks to him."

"How?"

"Benjamin bet me that he'd thank us for the rescue before he started complaining. He lost."

"Oh. Uh-huh." It was always off-putting how they treated him like an amicable adversary. _They have no idea how dangerous he is, what he's capable of_.

"Who was that?" Kirk asked.

"Garak. Our friendly neighborhood tailor, so he says."

"You don't think so?"

"Well, I don't like to make assumptions, but Benjamin was discussing the Klingon plan to invade Cardassia while Garak was in the room, and when he went to talk to Dukat, it looked a lot like someone had warned him."

"Why would you be discussing battle strategies with a supposed civilian tailor in the room? Now, I'm not the tactical expert here," he nodded to Tasha, "but it would seem that discussions about military invasions would be better suited for certain ears only."

"Well, we sort of got stuck between a rock and a hard place. Worf believes, and I can't help but agree, that the idea of a Founder on Cardassia might have been an excuse to go back to the old ways of conquest. If that happened, if they took Cardassia, no one would be safe. But the Federation had forbidden us to get involved."

"Of course. The iron stove."

Odo, Kirk, and Jadzia all turned to look at Tasha. "What?"

"It's an old children's story. A young princess is sent to marry a prince, but on the way her maid forces her to switch places and swear to tell no one. The prince begins to suspect, but since she took an oath not to tell any person what happened, she can't explain it to him, so he tells her to tell it to an iron stove so he can eavesdrop."

Kirk's face lit up with understanding. "You couldn't actually tell the Cardassians, so you discussed it amongst yourselves when you knew he was listening."

"Exactly."

xxxxxxxxx

"Worf? Odo told me you were on the station."

"Yes." He turned to face her. "But I did not know you were."

"Until they get us a new _Enterprise_, I'm on temporary duty on the _Fearless_. We were in the area when the fleet put out the call for ships."

"I think you should be the first to know. Even if there is a new _Enterprise_, I am not going to be on it."

"Why not? You're not resigning, are you?"

"I had considered it, but no. I am remaining in Starfleet. However, Captain Sisko offered me a position on the station. I have decided that I am needed here more than on the _Enterprise_."

"That's not true."

"You know it is. The _Enterprise_ will have you. Eddington and Odo are acceptable security officers but they do not have tactical expertise. This place is the front line of any conflict with the Dominion, you know that as well as I do. They need me."

"Well, you'll do wonderfully. Goodbye, Mr. Worf." Her hand gripped his larger, darker one. "And good luck."

**The context (but none of the text) of this chapter is from DS9 _The Way of the Warrior._**

**Since most of the _Defiant_-class starships had adjectives for names (_Defiant, Valiant_) I figured that Kirk's could follow that tradition. It does suit him, doesn't it?**

**Please review.**


	14. Chapter Fourteen: I Don't Follow You

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Fourteen: I Don't Follow You**_

"Tasha, are you all right?"

Tasha kissed Data. She was very glad to be back with him after a month apart. "I'm sorry, Data. It's just that for some reason I can't stop thinking about the _Voyager_ crew. Especially Tom. I'm not entirely sure why, but I really miss him today."

"You are still grieving for your friends. It is natural that they would be in the front of your mind. And I know you feel guilty about missing the memorial service."

"I should have been there."

"You were on an assignment. I am certain that if they can see you, they understood."

"Thanks for understanding."

He gave her the grin she would never grow tired of. "That is what I am here for."

xxxxxxxxx

"What have you done this time?"

When Tom had called her out of nowhere, Tasha had every reason to assume the worst. She knew he'd spent the months since getting out of prison lounging around in the bar in Marseilles. Sometimes she regretted that he'd never gotten the chance to go on the _Voyager_ mission, that he'd gotten in that fight on the station and been arrested by Odo, but after what had happened to Tuvok and the others, gratitude outweighed regret.

"Why do you always assume the worst?"

"Damn it, Tom, don't take that attitude with me. I know you too well." She was sick of him using his tough persona with her. She knew what was underneath, so he had no reason to bury it. "What did you call me about, then, if not to ask me to get you out of another sticky spot?"

"Something strange happened to me. I want to talk to someone about it, and you _are_ my go-to person when I want to talk."

"The way you're talking, it sounds like this is a conversation best had face-to-face."

"Probably. You want to meet me at -"

"_Not_ that bar of yours, thank you very much. There's a cafe in Portland I frequent, not a Starfleet-type place." She gave him the name and location. "Think you could meet me there in an hour?"

"For this, I'll find a way."

xxxxxxxxx

"Now, what's this all about?"

"Something strange happened to me," he said just as he had over the comm. "I was playing pool in Sandrine's and this kid came up to me. Starfleet. Works for Engineering Corps, right out of the Academy if you can believe it."

"Oh, I've heard of him. Kim, isn't it? Someone I know is also in Engineering Corps right out of the Academy. Apparently there's something of a connection - not like that, get your head out of the gutter, Paris!" she added before he could say what she knew he wanted to.

Tom laughed despite himself, a real laugh, and Tasha joined him.

"No one in Starfleet history and then two in one year?" he asked once he'd pulled himself together.

"I know. Starfleet works in mysterious ways. So what was it about this Ensign that made you call me at this hour?"

"Well, he told me an interesting story. Apparently, he's not supposed to be here. And niether am I."

"Well, where are you supposed to be, then?"

"That's the real question, isn't it? You see, according to him we're in an alternate reality."

"Oh. Those I know well. Go on."

"Well, according to him, in his reality I never got myself arrested on Deep Space Nine for fighting with a Ferengi for trying to sell me Lobi crystals."

"That's generally how alternate realities work, from what I understand. One event somewhere in the past is altered and everything is different because of it. But if you didn't get arrested, what did happen?"

"Apparently, the Ensign was there, and the Ferengi targeted him, and I stepped in, and we were both on _Voyager_ when she left. He asked me to go to Starfleet headquarters with him and help him run a simulation to prove that what he said happened could have happened, and I thought it was an elaborate trick. Wouldn't be the first time Starfleet's tried something like that."

She felt a rush of sympathy for him. She usually agreed with Starfleet, but in Tom's case she still thought it wasn't fair of them to continue trying to use him after having so unceremoniously thrown him out.

"But it was more than that. Something else happened."

"It was what he said after that. There was something about it - well, two somethings. The first is that some of what he said is pretty much exactly the way I think, but it's not the kind of thing I tell just anyone. It's the kind of thing I tell _you_. And second - sad to say, but what he said is true, and he made me think."

"What did he say?"

"He said I told him that I used to treat life like one big game. Rules, players, winners, losers. I never took any of it seriously until I lost. And then he said I told him I was afraid of what would happen to me if I didn't take Janeway up on her offer - and I was, and this is why? What am I, Tasha? What good am I to anyone?"

"You will be," she assured him. "You'll find a place for yourself again."

"He said that I'm a loser and a drunk, and that in this reality that's all I'll ever be. "

"So now what? What crazy scheme are you cooking up in that mind of yours?"

"How did you know -"

"I know _you_." She smiled. "Now, the plan?"

"I've got a friend or two in Starfleet yet. I'll check up on him, see if he needs any help."

"Whatever you end up doing, count me in."

"Okay, but promise me that if we get into a confrontation with Starfleet you'll stay out of sight and let me deal with it. In case the timeline doesn't fix for whatever reason, I'm not wrecking your career over this."

"Deal."

xxxxxxxxx

"Ow!" Tom exclaimed as he knocked out the security officer. "There goes my bank shot." He bent to pick up the man's phaser as Ensign Harry Kim watched him in shock.

"What are you doing here?"

"Helping out a friend. Let's go. Tasha, you there?"

"Right here." She popped out from behind the building she'd used as cover. "I second the motion to get going."

Tom's investigations had proven timely. Apparently, Harry was in serious trouble for supposedly forging access codes to hack a classified system. Tasha suspected it was actually a result of whatever time accident they'd gotten caught in the middle of. They'd arrived at his apartment in time to see him being chased down by Starfleet security for, as near as they could tell, tampering with a security anklet. That is, he had been being chased before Tom had knocked his pursuer unconscious.

"Who are you?"

"Don't worry. We can trust her."

"If you say so."

Harry's trust in Tom only reassured Tasha of what she already knew; he knew Tom. Knew the _real_ Tom as only a few people did. Since Tom didn't remember him at all, it meant that the only plausible explanation was the one Harry had offered.

"So, how did you find me?" Harry asked once they'd found an out of the way place to regroup.

"I still have a few friends at Starfleet. They told me you were in some serious trouble."

"Yeah. Starfleet thinks I'm a Maquis spy."

Tasha couldn't help a soft laugh in sympathy, but it was Tom who voiced what they were both thinking. "I know the feeling. Those security anklets really chafe, don't they?"

"You're the last person I expected to help me."

"Let's just say it's been a long time since anybody gave a damn about my future, including me. I don't know if I'm supposed to be on _Voyager_ like you've told me, but it sounds a whole lot better than the life I have here. I'm willing to take my chances, Ensign."

"Call me Harry. You always did. And what about -"

"My name's Tasha. Tom told me what's going on. I offered to help."

"Won't be long before they find us. We better keep moving."

"Wait. I found a way to get back to my reality. The problem is I'll need a ship to do it. I think I have access to a runabout, but I'm going to have to break it out of Spacedock."

"Sounds to me like you need a pilot." Tom grinned.

"Know anyone who's qualified?" Harry's smile made it clear he and Tom were on the same page.

"I know someone who used to be pretty good. And if I'm not mistaken, he still knows a few tricks."

"I can hold off Security for a few seconds without being caught." At Harry's look, she added, "Blame him. He's the one who made me swear not to get caught."

"I have an office at Starfleet Headquarters. I think we can access the runabout launch codes from there."

Tom pulled out a small device. "Site-to-site transporter. With friends like mine, you never know when it'll come in handy. Where's your office?"

"Main complex, level six, subsection forty seven."

"I can beam us in. But we'll only have a few minutes before Security starts kicking down the door. Even with Tasha, we'll have to move fast."

"Let's do it."

"Wait." Tasha put up her hand. "Tom, beam me over first. I'll try to disable or at least delay the security sensors. After ten seconds, you two follow."

"Okay. Energizing."

xxxxxxxxx

It was all set. They had their plan. They also had maybe two minutes before Tasha's tampering with the security system would fail.

"Tasha, I'll send you to another deserted alley in San Francisco. We both know you can't come on the runabout with us. And - thank you."

"From both of us," Harry added.

Tasha took a step forward and hugged Tom. "Good luck."

He kissed her forehead. "I love you, Tasha."

"And I love you."

"Tasha, if something goes wrong, tell my mom and my sisters I love them. And tell my dad I forgive him."

"I will." Her eyes shone with tears as he activated the transporter.

xxxxxxxxx

"Tell me something, Tom."

Harry had just finished filling the senior staff in on his strange alternate reality experience, but he'd left a tiny bit out of his report, making it seem that only Tom had helped him. Now that it was just the two of them, however, he intended to figure out the missing piece of the puzzle.

"What?"

"Who's Tasha?"

He stopped so suddenly Harry crashed into him. "What?"

"Who's Tasha?"'

"When did you meet her?"

"She helped you help me."

"Tasha going against Starfleet - I never thought I'd see the day." He laughed.

"So you do know her. You two seemed close."

"We are. Were. She must think I'm dead by now."

"You said you loved her. And she said she loved you."

"I do. And she does."

"You don't act like it."

"I - oh!" He laughed. "I'm afraid you've misunderstood. We're not involved."

"You're not?" Harry's eyebrows hit his hairline.

"She's my cousin, and I love her like my sister. That's all."

"You're sure?"

"Harry, even I wouldn't get involved with my cousin."

"No, I suppose you wouldn't."

xxxxxxxxx

"Tasha?"

"I'm sorry, did I wake you? I just had this strange dream."

"What was it about?"

"I don't remember." She frowned. "Tom, I think. But it wasn't like the ones I usually have, where he's dying somehow. I wish I could remember more. I suppose it doesn't really matter."

"Well, as long as you are awake and I am awake -"

"I thought you'd never ask."

**This entire chapter is based on the _Voyager_ episode "Non Sequitur", and the title of the chapter is a play on that phrase, which translates to "it does not follow". Just to be clear about what's what - the first section and the last two sections are normal reality, everything in between is alternate.**

**The mention of missing the memorial service came from the part of said episode where a character says that the service was recently. Since I didn't have anything to write for the service, I decided to come up with a reason why she wasn't there.**

**Also, just realized I haven't actually mentioned this, so here goes: I'm also working on a long fanfic for the show M*A*S*H. I remember one reviewer awhile ago correctly guessing that said show was the answer to a challenge question I posted at the end of a chapter, so I'm putting this here in case that person or any other reader of this story wants to read it. It's called _When You Need Me Most_, is a sequel to my oneshot _Operation Margaret_, and can be found on my profile.**

**Please review.**


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Paradise Victorious

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Fifteen: Paradise Victorious**_

"Ben!" She rushed forward to hug her old friend. "Are you the reason I'm here?"

"Yep. You know Admiral Leyton?"

"Only by reputation."

"I used to be his XO. He's now assigned me as Acting Chief of Starfleet Security. And I may know how to lead, but I was an engineer. You, on the other hand, are possibly the best tactical officer I've ever known."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Okay, then I'll say it straight out. I need you."

"That will get you somewhere. Okay. You've got me. What do we need to do?"

"This isn't the place. What do you say we discuss this over dinner?"

"You have a place in mind?"

"Sure do. How do you feel about Creole?"

"I've never had it."

"Boy, have you been missing out!"

xxxxxxxxx

"What _is _this place? I've never seen anything like it."

"That's not a problem, is it?"

"On the contrary, I like it. It's just one-of-a-kind."

"I guess it is. I'm so used to it I barely notice."

"Used to it? You've spent a lot of time here, I take it."

"I take it you weren't looking at the name over the door?"

"No, I suppose not. Why?"

"Ben!" An older man in an apron came up to them. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Tasha Yar, an old friend and my second-in-command on the project I was telling you about. Tasha, this is my dad, the owner of this establishment."

She shook his hand warmly, laughing as she realized what he'd meant about the name. "A pleasure, Mr. Sisko."

"The pleasure's all mine. Come on, there's a table with your names on it."

"What do you recommend? I've never had Creole before."

"Never had Creole before? What backwards little town did you come from?"

He'd clearly meant it as a friendly poke, but it was all too serious to her. "You hit it right on the head with that one. A backwards little planet, actually, and I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, you've come to the right place for your first taste of the stuff. Now, we've got a lovely trout today I've been saving for a special customer."

"Oh, I couldn't," she began.

He cut her off. "You most certainly could, and I hope you will!"

"All right, then I will."

He hurried off to the kitchen, and Tasha leaned towards Ben. "So what's the trouble?"

"What isn't is a better question. You heard about the bombing?"

"Of course I did. Everyone did." It was one of the worst tragedies to happen on Earth in a long time. A conference between the Federation and the Romulans had been bombed. Twenty-seven people were dead.

"We saw the recording and spotted evidence of a Changeling. But no changeling remains were found in the debris."

"So you think it escaped."

"Escaped and is loose on Earth somewhere. And if there's one, there may be more. Odo's already helping try to devise methods to detect Changelings."

"Okay. In the meantime, we need to secure key facilities."

"Agreed. What do you suggest?"

"We need to figure out which organizations and facilities are particularly key. From there, we need to find one or two people from each we know we can absolutely trust, preferably people we already know, give them every screening we can to make sure they're who they say they are, and then once we're convinced we tell them to keep their eyes open and let us know if anything major happens."

"I like it. What kind of key facilities are we talking about?"

"Well, Starfleet Security springs to mind, but being in charge of it we can watch it ourselves. Engineering Corps is a big one."

"Sabotage, you mean."

"Exactly."

"I don't know anyone inside, though."

"It's okay, I do. Close enough to the top to keep an eye on things, but inconspicuous enough not to draw a lot of attention."

"And you trust this person?"

"With my life."

"That's good enough for me. What else?"

xxxxxxxxx

"You wanted to see me, Captain?"

"I did. Sit down, Ensign."

"Sir, if I have done something I -"

"No, you haven't done anything. I need your help. You are Ensign Asil, Starfleet Engineering Corps?"

"Yes, sir."

"And I'm sure that you being here means you've passed the security screenings?"

"They were - particularly thorough."

"I apologize, but I had to be absolutely sure that you're who you say you are before I ask you to do what I'm about to ask you to do."

"And what is that, sir?"

"I need you to watch Engineering Corps for me."

"You mean spy?"

"In a sense, but only in case something goes wrong. Engineering Corps is a prime target for Changeling infiltration. You don't have to watch your colleagues, but if anything happens that shouldn't, a malfunction you can't explain or something, even if it's minor, I want to know about it."

"Understood, sir."

"You have your orders, Ensign. Dismissed."

xxxxxxxxx

"How did the meetings go?"

It had been a unanimous decision between them for her not to be present and let him conduct the 'interviews' alone, since most of the people in question were Tasha's friends or people from her past.

"For the most part, fine. But you really should have warned me that one of the people you sent to me was half-Bajoran."

"What's the difference?"

"What do you mean 'what's the difference'? The Bajoran people see me as a religious icon. And that includes that particular Bajoran person."

"Well, I'm sorry, but Mari's the best I could come up with in Fleet deployment. She's an old friend from the Academy, I trust her."

"I understand that. All I ask is that next time you bring in someone whose religion thinks I'm the Messiah, you give me a heads-up beforehand!"

She burst out laughing despite herself. "That I can do!"

xxxxxxxxx

"Want to tell me what's bothering you?"

"It's something that happened with my father."

"I heard he had a heart attack. Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine, and that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"He refused to give blood for a screening. I got upset, and I couldn't understand - he cut himself with a knife, and all I could do was stare at the blood, expecting it to turn orange. Odo says it's a wise assumption, but that's not the point. I actually believed my own father was a changeling."

"That's what they're trying to do," she said suddenly, eyes widening.

"What?"

"No time. I need to talk to Command immediately. And I think you'd better come with me."

xxxxxxxxx

"Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Admiral."

"I trust you wouldn't have bothered me unless it was important."

"Promise you'll take this seriously. It may sound a little far-fetched."

"Fire away. I'm listening."

"I think I may have figured out the Dominion's strategy on Earth. I told you it would be far-fetched."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense. What have you come up with?"

"Captain Sisko put me on to it." She nodded at her friend behind her. "There was an incident earlier today which briefly resulted in him thinking his father was a changeling. I'm not sure how to put this - did you ever watch any of Tom's old television broadcasts?"

"Did I watch them? Who do you think got him into them?" He knew her well enough to know this was going somewhere sooner or later.

"I'd never thought about it," she admitted. "Anyway, there was an episode of a show - can't remember the name exactly, something about midnight land but that doesn't sound right."

"_The Twilight Zone._"

"That's the one! Anyway, there's an episode where all the machines of the time suddenly stop working. There's no natural explanation, so the townspeople start blaming each other. Each of them thinks one of the others is responsible, and the entire neighborhood builds into one big riot. And then you see two people in a capsule discussing how easy it is to destroy Earth, that all they have to do is start messing with their devices and the people's own panic and paranoia will do the rest.

"I hardly think that this is a comprable situation." Paris frowned. "We _know_ the changelings are dangerous."

"No, I see what she's saying," Ben put in. "Right now, Earth is strong. If they attack us straight on, they might lose. But plant a bomb in a conference and kill two dozen people while the whole Earth watches, and people start to panic. They suspect the people around them, and before you know it everyone's turning on each other. Even if we don't start killing each other, the trust that we've built this world on - built the entire _Federation_ on, really - will be gone. And then, once we're weak from fighting each other -"

"They come in and roll right over us," Paris finished.

"Which means that our best defense is to be calm and think rationally. And above all, to trust each other."

"Agreed. I'll start spreading the word."

"Thank you, Admiral."

"Thank _you_, Tasha. You may have just saved us all."

They hadn't even made it to the turbolift when the entire building went dark. A few moments later they heard the sound of a door being manually forced open.

"Aliens messing with our power, you think?" Paris asked.

xxxxxxxxx

"Ensign, could you take a look at this?"

"What is it, Captain?"

"The virus that was used to disable the power network." They'd only just gotten the power back online after a four-day planet-wide blackout. Now that they'd fixed the _what_, they could turn their attention to _how_.

She took the PADD from the man. "What is it you want me to look at?"

"Does the code look familiar to you?"

The Vulcan Ensign studied it. "It does."

"That's what I thought. Can you identify it? That Vulcan memory of yours is better than this old mind."

Normally a reference like that might have been irritating, but she knew that the old Captain meant nothing by it; he was just like that.

"A moment - yes, that's it. It is a slightly modified version of the virus we created to inhibit the Borg's ability to adapt."

"_What_? How did the Dominion get a hold of that? Only five people in the entire Federation even know about it!"

"I do not know. But I know someone who should know about this as soon as possible."

xxxxxxxxx

"Asil! What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to Captain Sisko immediately."

"You can't. He's gotten caught up in some mess at Headquarters."

"I have information he will want to hear."

Tasha sighed. "All right, let's cut the formality. What's going on?"

"Captain Sisko wanted me to come directly to him if anything out of the ordinary or suspicious happened at Engineering Corps. Something did. So I did."

"Captain Sisko's in trouble. I need you to tell me. This could be important."

"I'm not certain -

"Come on. Who do you think told Captain Sisko to go to you? You can tell me.

"This is the virus that was used to disable the restart sequencers in the power grid." She pushed one PADD to Tasha. "And this is an experimental virus intended to inhibit the Borg's ability to adapt in the event that we encounter them again. Except for a few small modifications, they are identical."

"I don't suppose that could be a coincidence?"

"Unlikely. It took us nearly two months to come up with the correct code sequence. But I cannot see how a Changeling could have penetrated Engineering Corps. Our security is among the tightest anywhere in the Federation."

"Who knows about this?"

"The four of us who worked on it, of course. And we just showed it to Admiral Leyton last week as something we could modify to use as a defense against Dominion ships."

"Leyton? Leyton knows about this?"

"Yes, why?"

"Asil, listen to me very carefully. We've learned that Federation forces were the ones who sabotaged the power array, and we think Leyton may have been behind it. If you showed him that virus -"

"He could have modified it."

"Exactly. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To the President, to present this evidence. Until we get past security, pretend you don't know anything. You're just my assistant."

"Why?"

"Leyton faked a bad blood test to get Captain Sisko arrested. If he thinks we have evidence to stop whatever his plan is, he could try the same stunt. We have to get this to the President."

"Understood."

xxxxxxxxx

"Ah, Commander. What can I do for you?"

"President Jaresh-Inyo, Ensign Asil, Starfleet Engineering Corps. We've discovered something you need to see."

"What is it?"

"The virus that was used to sabotage the power array was of Federation origin."

"Are you certain, Commander?"

"I was a member of the team that created the virus," Asil spoke up. "It took several months to manufacture."

"You think Changelings have infiltrated Engineering Corps?"

"Unlikely. Our security is among the tightest of any Starfleet facility."

"Mr. President, Captain Sisko uncovered evidence that the power shutdown was engineered by the Federation."

"Why?"

"As an excuse to declare martial law. But as soon as he discovered this, the cadets who did the sabotage were removed from Earth and Captain Sisko's blood test came back negative. Leyton is trying to stage a coup. I was pretty sure before and I'm positive now."

"Mr. President." Odo's gruff voice came from the doorway.

"Odo."

"Mr. President, I need to speak with you immediately."

"What now?"

"I've just spoken to Deep Space Nine. You know what we told you about the wormhole?"

"That it was opening and closing apparently at random, you mean?" That had been one of the most worrying things that had happened. It was likely to mean cloaked ships.

"It was a ruse. Major Kira and Commander Worf found a subspace modulator attached to the relay satellite on the far side of the wormhole. This has all been an elaborate setup so that Leyton could stage a coup."

"These two were just trying to tell me something similar."

"The virus that knocked out the power relay system? Only five people knew about it. Leyton was one of them." She knew Odo would appreciate brevity over specificity, especially under the circumstances.

"Listen. There's a lot of evidence to suggest that whatever Leyton is planning, he's going to try it today. Captain Sisko's gone to confront him, but you'd better be on guard."

"_Sisko to Odo_."

"Odo here. Good news, I hope?"

"_Leyton's resigned. It's over._"

**There's a tiny follow-up to this planned for the next chapter, basically explaining what was going on on the other end while they were in the President's office. So before anyone asks any questions, it'll all be explained.**

**This chapter is based on the DS9 two-parter _Homefront/Paradise Lost._**

**Please review.**


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Chance Encounter

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Sixteen: Chance Encounter**_

"So what exactly happened with Leyton? What got him to resign?"

"I told him we were onto him. He told me that it didn't matter because he'd sent the _Lakota _to intercept the _Defiant _before she could get to Earth. Told them the _Defiant'_s crew had all been replaced by shapeshifters."

"Isn't that Benteen's ship?" She named Leyton's most recent XO.

"Yes. Anyway, I was able to convince Benteen to stand down, and Leyton saw his little empire collapsing."

"So he resigned?"

"I made him see reason."

"With a phaser, I presume."

"Among other things," he admitted.

She laughed. "Sometimes, that's the only way."

xxxxxxxxx

"Thank your friend for me, would you? That little connection we discovered was the nail in Leyton's coffin. He's been charged with plotting to overthrow the government."

"I will. Though I'm sure she knows by now, they've probably called her to testify."

"When do you get back into space?"

"Six weeks. That's when they launch the new _Enterprise_."

"Would you mind doing me a favor?"

"Of course not. What do you need?"

"You like my dad's cooking, right?"

"Never tasted anything like it. It's great. All real ingredients?"

"Pretty much. Anyway, I need you to stop in for a meal from time to time. And while you're there, try to make sure he's taking care of himself."

"I can do that. Goodbye, Ben. And good luck."

"You too."

xxxxxxxxx

"How long have you been running this place?" It was half a conversation starter and half genuine curiosity.

"Oh, I lost count a long time ago." The old man smiled kindly at her. "I measure my time in accomplishments, not years."

"Accomplishments? You mean new dishes?"

"That's one way. Couples, too."

"You play matchmaker on the side?" she laughed.

"You bet I do. Don't get me wrong, I don't go into the street to find people to match up, but if there's a good match in here and they don't know each other exist, well, I can't stand around and let that chance walk out the door."

"How often does it work out?"

"Well, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes they date for years. See that man?" Joseph Sisko pointed to a table where two men were sitting, and Tasha couldn't help wanting to laugh. _Which one?_

"You match those two up?"

"Unfortunately, I can't take credit for that one. But that man, the one facing away from us? I matched up his brother real good. The man came in here single and lonely, recently broken up, and as it happened there was a group of about seven or eight young ladies about his age who hung around this place a lot, and I knew from talking to them that about five of them were single. So I talked to him for awhile about what he might want in a girl - there was a wide range of personalities in that group - and figured out which of those five was the best match for him. I arranged for them to have dinner together, and from then on I hardly saw one of them without the other. He proposed to her right here in this restaurant five months after I first introduced them. They had their wedding dinner here too."

"You hosted the reception?"

"It was hardly a reception, there were only five people including the bride and groom. But I pulled out all the stops for them. Baked a wedding cake with my own hands, rustled up some champagne, the works. And I cleared the floor so they could dance. A lot of the other guests in the restaurant joined them. It was the most fun I'd had in a long time."

"Whatever happened to them?"

"To be honest, I don't know. He lived off-planet, he'd just been visiting Earth, and they got married the day before he went back - I'm sure that was on purpose. He shook my hand and thanked me, she hugged me and said she couldn't imagine a way it could have been better, and then they walked out the door and I never saw them again."

"You talking about my brother's wedding again?" The man in question had stepped up behind them. "He never gets tired of that story."

"I don't mind. I did ask."

"You still keep those pictures around?" the man asked.

"Of course." He slid a stack of holo-photos out from under the counter. "Why would I get rid of them?"

"Why indeed?" He picked up one of the photos and laughed. "I can't believe you took a picture of this!"

"What?" Tasha tugged it out of his hand. "Oh, God." The picture featured a younger version of the man standing behind her. In this photograph, he was standing on a table, his cup raised in a toast.

"A little too much to drink?" she laughed too.

"Yeah, that and I wanted to embarrass my brother. Instead I embarrassed myself. He was too giddy from being newly married to get embarrassed." He picked up another photo. "God, he was lucky I don't swing that way. Otherwise I just might have asked her to run away with me."

Tasha laughed harder, but it stopped abruptly as she got a look at the picture. Her eyes went wide, and she shuffled through Joseph's photos until she found one that clearly showed the faces of the wedding party.

The man behind her stood on the far left, but it wasn't him she was looking at. The two people on the right were familiar, albeit younger than she'd ever known them, but she only gave them a passing look too. It was the couple she was looking at. They'd been older when she'd first known them too, and it had been a long time since she'd seen either of them, but they were faces she'd never forget.

"Are you okay, hon?" Joseph was looking at her in concern. Tasha realized suddenly that she was crying silently, her tears landing on the picture.

"What is it?" the man asked.

"I know these people," she said finally.

"You do?" both men asked simultaneously.

"I did." She traced the woman's face with her finger. "They're my parents."

Absolute silence. It was the strange man who spoke first. "You mean those two?" He pointed to the couple on the right. Owen and Julia Paris grinned at the camera, but it wasn't them Tasha was focused on.

"No. I mean the couple getting married."

"That's impossible. My brother and his wife lived on a planet that lost all contact with the outside world years ago."

"You think I don't know that? I was _born_ on that planet, damn it, I grew up there!" She drew a deep breath, trying to calm her temper. "I'm sorry. This is just all a little overwhelming."

"A little..." To his credit, the man looked as flustered as she did. "I don't blame you. I'm overwhelmed too."

He was staring at her, and she realized what she'd missed in her shock over seeing those pictures of her parents. If he was the brother of the groom, that meant he was her uncle.

"I - uh - I don't think we've been introduced."

"We have, but it was a long time ago. I visited my brother once, when you were a year old - you are Natasha, aren't you?"

"Technically, yes, but I've gone by Tasha as long as I can remember."

"I'm David, go by Dave." She reached out to shake his hand, but he pulled her in by the arm and hugged her. "It's wonderful to see you again, Tasha."

She still hadn't managed to check the tears running down her face. "I never thought this would happen - could happen. I found my mother's family a few years ago, and I already knew I was luckier than most."

"Tasha, can I - if you don't mind - would it bother you if -"

"For God's sake, just spit it out."

"Tasha, what happened to my brother?"

She sighed. "He died when I was five."

She noticed he looked saddened but not surprised. He'd probably suspected something like that. "How?"

"This isn't the time or place."

"All right. Later, then. Oh, and Mr. Sisko, would you mind bringing out some of that bread pudding souffle? That's actually what I came over here for."

"Two servings?"

"Make that three." He nodded to Tasha. "Come here a moment, won't you?"

"What was that about?" the other man asked. "Hey, weren't you at that little 'surprise' with Captain Kirk?"

"How'd you know?" Tasha's eyes went wide.

He grinned. "My grandfather served under Kirk. They were re-running that clip over and over on the news, and it took me a long time to get tired of it. So Dave, aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh, right. Tasha, Alan Riley. Alan, my niece Tasha."

"I didn't know you had a niece."

"Niether did I. But you remember me telling you about my brother?"

"Hmm, I think I remember you mentioning something about him, once or twice. A week."

"This is his daughter."

"Her you never mentioned."

"I only met her once."

"Which of you was older?" Tasha broke in.

"Him," Dave replied, "by four years. I was just barely old enough to be a legal witness at their wedding."

"He was only twenty-two?"

"Yep. It's amazing what a guy can do in four years, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Now you asked for it," mumbled Alan good-naturedly.

"Yes, I did. I want to know more about my father."

"Your father, Tasha, was always an adventurer. Never content to sit still, and ambitious like you wouldn't believe. He wanted to go do the next big thing. Well, he heard about this colony out on Turkana IV looking for government workers and signed up. He hadn't been eighteen for a month, he was the youngest applicant, but his enthusiasm and dedication to work got the attention of the people in charge. He was promoted twice within the first year. By the time his twenty-first birthday rolled around, he had a major leadership role in that government. It was at some point in there, about a year later, that his superiors decided he was working too hard and ordered him to take a six-month leave. He came to Earth for a visit and went back to Turkana married to a girl from one of the most prominent families in Starfleet. Everyone was stunned."

"I can imagine."

"From what I heard, Eva was actually a regulating influence on him. He started working normal hours, took a day off from time to time - I think he just wanted to spend time with her. He was completely and utterly in love with her. One of his co-workers said that he was shouting to the streets when he found out he was going to be a father."

"I wish I'd had the chance to know him."

"He loved you. The only thing in his world more important to him than his work was his family. You, and your mother, and your -" he broke off suddenly. "I just realized. I never even knew what he had the second time."

"Sister. Ishara. She died a few years ago."

"I'm sorry. How?"

"Again, not the place."

"All right."

"Was my father there when you got married?"

"No. That was a few years after we lost contact." Then he did a double-take. "How did you know I was married?"

"Call it an educated guess. I noticed that Alan's wearing a wedding ring, even though you're not."

"I tend to leave mine off. I'm always worried I'll lose it, and I'm past the age where it's really an issue."

"Anyway, the way you two look at each other, I sure hope you're married. Otherwise Alan has some explaining to do to someone."

"Is it that obvious?" the still-seated man laughed.

"Not really. I'm really good at picking up on people's nonverbal cues. It's a learned art."

"Where did you learn it?" Dave asked.

Their dessert was brought, and they began a more lighthearted conversation as they ate.

xxxxxxxxx

"It really was wonderful to see you again, Tasha."

After they had finished eating, he had insisted that she accompany him back to his apartment so that she could tell him everything she wouldn't tell him at the restaurant. She'd warned him that she had a tendency to be very blunt and matter-of-fact about things that were difficult, one of the reasons she hadn't wanted to tell him in public. He'd been understanding about her background, and she'd been grateful that he didn't ask too many questions about what she told him. He'd thanked her, explaining that he'd suspected for a long time that his brother was dead but that knowing for sure and knowing how provided closure he hadn't had. He'd also issued her a standing invitation to visit him anytime.

She'd then answered a few questions about Kirk for Alan, and had been shocked to realize she knew of his grandfather. As soon as he'd referred to the man as "Grandpa Kevin", she'd been aware of who he was. She'd been made a bit uncomfortable to realize she probably knew things about Kevin Riley that his own grandson didn't, but he didn't ask and she didn't volunteer the information.

"It was wonderful to meet you," she replied.

"Come back and see me at least once before you leave, okay?"

"I will." She paused, considering. "Do you mind if I bring a friend?"

"Of course not."

**Don't know where this plot bunny came from, it just jumped out at me and who am I to refuse an eager bunny?**

**Yes, I made casual references to Dave Yar and Alan Riley being a married gay couple. I like to think that in the time of Trek they could marry and it wouldn't even be considered unusual.  
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**Please review.**


	17. Chapter Seventeen: The Enterprise E

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

**_Chapter Seventeen: The _Enterprise_-E_**

"Wow."

"That about sums it up, Data."

The _Sovereign_-class _Enterprise_ was slightly smaller than her predecessor, designed more like the battle-ready _Intrepid_- and _Defiant_-class ships than the 'city in space' the old _Galaxy_-class had been. The ship was awe-inspiring. Brand-new and clearly ready to go. But at the same time, listening to Will and Data talking, Tasha couldn't help feeling sad. A ship was a reflection of the time in which it was built. The _Enterprise_-D had been built to do exactly what Starfleet had been created for: to seek out new life and new civilizations. This one was built for the fight no one wanted and everyone expected.

"May she never be used for the purpose she was designed for," Tasha said softly.

"I'll second that," Geordi said softly. "I'm still a little worried about that glitch with the emergency systems -"

"Don't be. I know the engineer who came up with the fix. She wouldn't have let this all go through unless she was completely sure it was going to work."

"All right, if you say so."

"I do." She stared out the spacedock's viewport at the ship that would be theirs. "It looks almost like a model from this angle."

"Oh, come on," Will replied.

"No, seriously. It's just hanging in space, not operating under its own power. It's perfectly pristine, having never been flown before. I think it looks like a model."

Data suddenly lifted his hand and pinched his fingers together. "Behold! I will crush the model!"

"Not if I crush it first!" Geordi chimed in.

All intelligent discussion was forgotten as the four friends reverted gleefully to a sort of momentary second childhood.

xxxxxxxxx

"She's all yours." Scotty smiled at the _Enterprise_'s senior staff. "Where's Geordi?"

"Having a personal conversation with the ship's designer." Will's years of poker must have served him well, Tasha thought, to get that one out with a straight face. She and Data locked eyes and then looked away just as quickly, trying not to burst out laughing. A rather choked sound from behind them suggested that Deanna wasn't having much more luck. Niether was Beverly, who Tasha could see out of the corner of her eye, her shoulders shaking with silent giggles.

"I dinna see what's so funny! It's perfectly common for a ship's chief engineer to confer with the designer!"

That did it. The group of five all cracked up, and even Picard sported a grin. Tasha recovered first. "Not this kind of conference, I'd bet!"

"I still dinna follow."

"Captain," Beverly gasped through her laughter, "their relationship moved beyond the professional months ago."

"You don't think they'd -"

"Give them a little credit," Tasha snickered. "They're more professional than _that_. But I doubt they're talking mechanics."

At that moment, Geordi joined them, triggering a fresh round of laughter which Scotty happily joined in on. He watched them all in confusion. "What? What did I miss?"

"How did your private conference go, Geordi?" Data managed to get out in an innocent tone before everyone completely lost it.

xxxxxxxxx

"I see what you meant."

"What?" Tasha turned to see Geordi standing behind her.

"Oh, sorry. Just thinking out loud."

"Since it apparently involves me being right, I'd like to hear about it."

"It was awhile ago. You told me that what we had - we could never bring it back, and it just wouldn't have worked."

"And?"

"Even when I first left the _Victory_, I never felt quite this way. No offense."

"What way? None taken."

"Like I'm leaving part of myself behind. Make that three parts."

"You really love those kids, huh?"

"I can't explain it. They're not even my kids, but I got so used to having them around. Did I tell you Joey rolled over for the first time when I was there?"

"No."

"He did. Crawled for the first time too. Come to think of it, I've been there for most of his firsts."

"You've been there for most of him, period."

"True. But when he rolled over - I had nothing to do with making him, but I was so _proud_. I don't think a real father could've been more proud than I was."

"Geordi, blood isn't what's important. Those kids don't have their 'real' father anymore." She was careful to put the word in air quotes. "What they have is a man who's willing to step up and take that place. And I think that's a damn good thing of him to do."

"Thanks."

She grinned at him. "Anytime."

xxxxxxxxx

"You wanted me?"

Tasha had been extremely pleased to see Jenna D'Sora's name on her security roster. A lot of the non-senior officers had accepted other positions rather than wait for a new _Enterprise_ to be commissioned. Tasha could hardly blame them, but she wasn't really thrilled about having to start from scratch with all but a few of her team new faces. She was glad to see this one old face.

"Yes, I did. Please sit down."

The younger officer complied. "What's this about?"

"I don't know if you've heard, but Commander Worf has chosen not to join this crew. He's accepted another position."

"I hadn't heard. And I'm sorry to hear it."

"Thanks, but that's not the point. With Worf gone, I need a new Assistant Chief of Security."

"Well, yes, that makes - wait. You're not just telling me this for the heck of it, are you?"

"The job's yours if you want it."

"I do." A huge grin split her face.

"In that case, you're hired."

xxxxxxxxx

"It's strange."

"What is?" Picard looked over at her from the passenger's seat of the shuttle. He'd elected to have him fly her up "for old time's sake," as he'd put it.

"Well, in some ways this isn't going to be that different from the first time we did all this. I mean it's pretty much the same people, at least senior staff-wise. But at the same time it'll be so different. Last time, I knew three people on the staff, had never actually met you, and only a few of us had ever served together. Now we've all known each other for almost eight years, during which time we've all but literally been to hell and back together."

"Speak for yourself," he interjected, and she smiled.

"We're a family now."

"Indeed we are, Captain."

"Unless I'm much mistaken, we're ready to dock."

"Already cleared."

"Bring us in, Commander."

She grinned. "Aye, Captain."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha glanced around the bridge with a smile. Except for the Lieutenant at the helm, an unfamiliar face, everyone was right where she remembered them. Picard in the Captain's chair. Will at his right hand, Deanna at his left. Data at ops. Geordi at the bridge engineering station. And though they couldn't see her, they all knew Beverly was in sickbay.

"Lieutenant, lay in a course and clear our departure," Picard said softly.

"Course laid in, we're cleared to leave."

"Make it so."

**A little short, I know, but I wanted a chapter just dedicated to them getting back out into space.**

**Please review.**


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Making Contact

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Eighteen: Making Contact**_

It was the first time she'd ever heard Data use _that_ phrase.

_Funny_, she thought to herself, _we're warping into the middle of a crisis and all I can think about is Data's use of language._ Not that "to hell with our orders" wasn't completely outside the realm of phrases the android normally used.

"What are you thinking about?"

She turned to smile at the counselor. "How strange my thought process is. We'll be engaging the Borg in fifteen minutes, and I'm still thinking about that little gem Data pulled out earlier."

"That's not strange at all."

"Don't patronize me, Deanna."

"I'm not. It's easier to think about the little things than about what we're all facing. We all know what we're headed for. As long as you're prepared, I don't see any reason not to be having a private laugh. Besides," she shrugged, "it was adorable."

"He only said what we were all thinking. It's just so strange to hear _him_ say it, you know?"

"I was there," she teased.

"Are you nervous, Deanna?"

"Are you?"

"I asked first."

"I'm terrified," she admitted.

"So am I."

xxxxxxxxx

"Captain, one minute," Tasha said, her voice short from anxiety.

"Open a shipwide channel."

"Channel open."

"Attention all personnel. This is the Captain. Prepare to engage the enemy."

He motioned to Tasha, who cut off the line just as the ship dropped out of warp. The fleet swarmed around the cube, and it seemed to Tasha that the whole thing just slowed down. She could see each individual ship as it moved. The _Fearless_ darted in and out, twisting through space to avoid weapons fire, daring and unorthodox like her captain. Several ships tried to tag-team, but there was no structure, no one person calling the shots, since the head ship had been destroyed.

As they came around, Tasha could see the _Defiant_ caught in a tractor beam. She had Picard's authorization to fire without orders, and she targeted the beam emitter. It flickered long enough for the ship to pull away.

"The _Defiant_'s losing life support," she warned.

"Bridge to Transporter Room Three." Picard spoke without taking his attention off the battle. "Beam the _Defiant_ survivors directly to sickbay."

"Captain." Will said what Tasha had already realized. "The Admiral's ship has been destroyed."

"What is the status of the Borg cube?" Picard asked.

"It has sustained heavy damage to its outer hull. I am reading fluctuations in their power grid." The android's eyes were glued to his readout.

"Quantum torpedoes," Tasha said softly. Everyone on the Bridge knew what she meant. That was the one weapon they hadn't had last time. The Borg hadn't been prepared for it.

"On screen." Picard seemed to stare into space for a long moment before he spoke again. "Open a channel to the fleet."

"Channel open." _Good,_ her tactical mind said. _That's what we need. Someone to take charge._

_"_This is Captain Picard of the Enterprise. I am taking command of the fleet. Target all of your weapons onto the following coordinates." He input something. "Fire on my command."

"Sir, the coordinates you have indicated do not appear to be a vital system."

"Trust me Data," he replied, and Tasha realized what had happened. Somehow, he _knew_. Somehow, he was tapping into the Borg network, and it had told him where they were most vulnerable.

"The fleet's responded, sir," she informed him. "They're standing by."

"Fire."

The fleet responded to the command, all of them throwing everything they had at the massive ship. Tasha's sensors registered a chain of explosions.

A spherical ship emerged from the cube just as it blew up. The fleet scattered, pulling back from the explosion, but Picard had other ideas for the _Enterprise_.

"Mr. Hawk." He turned to the Lieutenant at the helm. "Pursuit course. Engage."

"Aye sir."

"What?" Deanna asked softly, and Tasha could only guess what she was picking up from their Captain.

"I can hear them," he said softly.

"Captain." Beverly stepped through the turbolift doors. "I have a patient who insists on coming to the bridge."

Tasha smiled when she saw the Klingon standing behind her. Picard managed a small smile too. "Welcome aboard the _Enterprise_, Mr. Worf."

"Thank you sir. The_ Defiant_?"

"Adrift, but salvageable."

"Tough little ship," Will commented with a gleam of teasing in his eye.

At any rate, Worf certainly took offense. "Little?"

Their banter was abruptly cut off by Data. "Sensors show chronometric particles emanating from the sphere."

"They're creating a temporal vortex," Picard said softly, just as the ship rocked hard. "Data, report!"

"We appear to be caught in a temporal wake."

Worf was staring out the viewscreen. "Captain - Earth."

Data was already scanning. "The atmosphere contains high concentrations of methane, carbon monoxide and fluorine. Population ...approximately nine billion. ...All Borg."

"How?" Deanna asked in horrified wonder.

"They must have done it in the past. They went back and assimilated Earth. Changed history."

"Then if they changed history," Beverly asked, "why are we still here?"

As usual, Data provided the answer. "The temporal wake must somehow have protected us from the changes in the time-line. Sir, the vortex is collapsing."

Picard's face hardened with determination. "Hold your course, Mr. Hawk. We must follow them back. Repair whatever damage they've done."

xxxxxxxxx

Everyone on the Away Team was perturbed by the look of Earth in this past timeline. It didn't look anything like the Earth they'd all come to know. The town was wrecked.

"The Borg must have gotten off more shots than we thought," Picard said softly, but Tasha was shaking her head already.

"That's not it. The Borg _did_ hit this area, that's what killed these people, but it's not what did in the town. This is damage on top of damage, probably caused over the course of months or years."

"World War III," said someone.

"That's my best guess."

"How can you tell?" asked someone else.

"Longtime, cumulative damage leaves a different look than one massive strike. This damage didn't happen all at once." She glanced from Picard to Data, the only ones who would know where she was coming from. "Trust me, I know."

Picard gave her a slight nod. "Natasha, secure the area and start looking for Cochrane. Mr. Data, come with me."

xxxxxxxxx

"What do you mean we've lost contact with the ship?"

If Geordi had been anyone else, Tasha thought, he'd have been rolling his eyes at the first officer's question. "I _mean_ we've lost contact with the ship. I don't know _why_."

Picard and Data had beamed back up to the ship, but not before sending Will, Deanna, Geordi, and several engineers to join Tasha's security team on the planet.

"Okay, okay." Will took a deep breath. "What's the last thing that happened?"

"I was down here before either of you. Geordi?"

"Environmental controls were having a problem. It's what the Captain and Data beamed up to fix."

"What kind of problem?"

"It was getting really hot."

Tasha frowned. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but one place where it tended to be hotter than our standard environmental protocols -"

"Oh, God," Will groaned. "A Borg cube."

"What do we do now?" Geordi asked.

"What we were told to do," Will said softly. "There's nothing we can do to help the ship now. We have to make sure Cochrane makes the flight when he's supposed to."

"All right. Where is he?" Tasha asked.

"Deanna went to find him."

"Let me rephrase, then. Where's Deanna?"

"Riker to Troi." The badge only gave a dull beep. "No good."

"If the ship's systems are interrupted, those will be useless," Geordi pointed out. "They don't run on an independent power source."

"All right then, let's do this the old-fashioned way." Will's face hardened into a mask of determination.

xxxxxxxxx

"I can't do this."

Cochrane had been mumbling something along those lines ever since a rather drunk Deanna had elected to spill the beans about their mission. Tasha had had enough.

"Why not?" Will asked.

"Look, I don't know who you guys think I am, but look around you. I'm not from whatever world of starships you come from. This is my world. I'm as wrecked as this planet."

"No, you're not," Tasha said softly.

"What would you know about it?"

"Our time isn't perfect either. Earth is, but not the whole galaxy. I came from a planet that makes this place look like a resort spot."

"Don't lie to me," he said sharply.

"She's not," Will put in before she could counter him. "I've been there myself. It's a real place and it really is that bad."

"I lived there until I was fifteen." Tasha rarely told this story to strangers, but she thought she could handle it so long as she left out the details. "It was the worst kind of hell. Now I'm fourth in command of a starship."

"Not just any starship," Geordi put in. "The Federation's flagship. People wait years for a graveyard shift posting on the _Enterprise_."

"My point is, you have two options. You can let your circumstances define you, or you can decide to be more than a product of your environment."

"Like you did."

"Well, yes."

For a long moment, no one spoke. Cochrane looked around. Finally, he broke the silence. "It would be a shame to have put in all that work on the _Phoenix_ for nothing."

xxxxxxxxx

"They're safely to warp," Deanna reported. "Wait, is that...?"

"An escape pod," Tasha finished. "Yeah, it sure looks like one."

They raced to it, reaching it just as it landed. A dark-skinned woman stepped out, looking panicked until she caught sight of their uniforms. "Is there a Commander Riker here?"

"He's up there with your friend." Deanna gestured towards the sky.

"Who's in charge down here, then?"

"That would be me." Tasha took the PADD she held out. "What's going on?"

"Captain Picard's evacuated and set the ship for self-destruct. The Borg had taken over a good chunk of it."

"And where's he?"

"He had to stay. He said that when the Borg held him captive, his crew risked everything to save him. There was someone on the ship he thought he owed the same to."

Her eyes met Deanna's. The counselor spoke first. "Senior staff?"

"Probably. We're the only ones from that incident still on the ship."

"Who?"

"Hey, uh -"

"The name's Lily."

"Lily. Did he say anything about _who_ he was going to rescue?"

"Uh - it's a he."

"Rules out Beverly." Deanna shrugged.

"And there was one guy, big with a strange-looking face. Hard to miss, you know? But he was the Captain's friend. He got off okay."

"And Worf," Tasha added.

"So if you, me, Will, and Geordi are -"

"Oh, my God." Tasha put a hand to her mouth in horror. "Oh, no. No, no."

"What?" Deanna and Lily asked together.

"On the bridge or the escape pods, did you see a man, about two meters, white skin, yellow eyes?" she demanded.

"I saw him earlier, but no. He's not down here?"

Tasha gave a soft cry and fell to one knee, incapable of actually answering the question. Lily looked completely perplexed, while Deanna's face filled with concern.

"Who is he?" the 21st century woman asked.

"Her boyfriend," Deanna answered as she dropped a hand to her friend's shoulder. "Come on, Tasha. We both know Data's strong. They can't assimilate him. All he has to do is hang on long enough for the Captain to get to him. And you know he will."

xxxxxxxxx

"Captain!"

The man had no sooner finished materializing than he was mobbed by his senior staff, asking twenty questions a minute. The two words that featured the most were "Borg" and "Data", the latter of which had been a constant topic of conversation once Deanna had conveyed the sobering news and its implications to Will and Geordi upon their return. Finally he held up his hand and they all fell silent.

"The ship is relatively intact, and the Borg have been destroyed. And Mr. Data is safe."

Most of them let out sighs of relief. Tasha didn't. As soon as the crowd had dispersed, she turned to him. "Safe, Captain?"

He sighed. She'd caught on to his choice of words. "There's nothing permanently wrong with him, but she removed some of his sheeting and grafted on organic skin."

"She, Captain?"

He winced at the information he'd accidentally revealed. "The Borg Queen. Long story. Anyway, the skin was destroyed when Data punctured one of the plasma coolant tanks."

"Which destroyed the Borg too."

"Exactly. Of course, being an android he's not in physical danger. But he looks rather - disturbing. And I think he feels guilty."

"Why?'

"He was very briefly tempted by what she offered him. And by briefly I mean literally a fraction of a second. But he thinks he's failed. You'd do well to set him straight, Natasha."

"Oh, don't worry. I will."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha barely noticed the exposed circuitry on Data's face. She ran to him the second she saw him.

"Oh, Data, Data. I was so worried."

And that was when he did it. He took a step back as she reached out to embrace him.

"Do not."

She drew back. "Data?"

"Please."

"All right. Whatever you want."

He didn't stay long enough to see the tears in her eyes.

**Cliffhanger time. I'm evil, I know.**

**This is based entirely on the movie _First Contact_.**

**Please review.**


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Steps Towards Healing

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Nineteen: Steps Towards Healing**_

"Traveled three centuries, lived three days, and it hasn't made a bit of difference."

Geordi shook his head sympathetically. "If it helps, it's not just you he's been a jerk to."

"I've _never_ seen him act like this. For God's sake, it's _Data_."

Data's strange behavior hadn't improved in the days since they'd saved the ship. He'd been physically repaired, but it hadn't changed his personality. He was reclusive and had even snapped at a few people. He'd barely said five words to Tasha at all and seemed to find every excuse not to be around a woman he'd professed to love so recently.

"Tell me about it. One of the assigned engineers tried to ask him a question, and he blew up in her face."

"You haven't been able to get through to him?"

"All I can say for me is at least he doesn't leave the room when I walk in. He doesn't say more of substance to me than he does to you."

"I've spoken to Deanna. He won't talk to her either."

"Or the Captain. I had to go to him and tell him Data's behavior was affecting his performance, and he told me Data's no more open to him."

"I'm worried, Geordi, and I'm angry at the same time."

"That makes two of us."

"You don't live with him."

"Fair point. How does he handle that?"

"He 'sleeps' on the couch. When he uses the dream program at all, which isn't often. Usually he sits behind his console and doesn't acknowledge me unless I get in his face, and then it's just to tell me to leave him alone. I don't know what to do about him anymore."

"If you figure it out," he said with a slightly forced smile, "let me know, won't you?"

xxxxxxxxx

"Data?"

No response. She'd come to expect that, but that didn't mean she could get used to it.

"Data, talk to me."

Still nothing.

"Data, what is it? Why won't you talk to me? Why won't you even look at me?"

She might as well have been talking to a wall.

"Data, I'm worried about you." She moved in, daring to put a hand on his shoulder.

Finally, she got a reaction. He stood so abruptly he almost knocked her over and fixed her with a sharp stare. "I have _told_ you. Do not touch me."

She couldn't help what she did next. She grabbed a vase off his desk and threw it against the wall. "Damn it, Data! Don't keep doing this to me! If you want to break up with me, then break up with me, but you sure as hell owe me an explanation for all this! Don't just sit there like I don't exist!"

She stormed into her bedroom, the bedroom they had once shared. Once she had collected herself, she went back out, hoping they could talk their spat over.

He was sitting at his console again, not even acknowledging that she was there.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha sighed and rolled over. She hated being woken in the middle of the night. What _was_ that sound anyway?

As she became more conscious, she realized it was the sound of water hitting a floor. _The shower. Who's taking a shower at -_ "Computer, time?"

"_Oh three fifteen_."

So it was the middle of Gamma shift, and everyone else would be asleep. Where was the shower coming from. It had to be nearby.

_Wait._ She turned in the direction the sound was coming from. It was her bathroom.

Now thoroughly confused, she dragged herself out of bed and walked to the door. She pressed the button, but the door didn't open.

Frowning, she pressed it again. The same result.

_I'll just wait for whoever it is to get out. _She had barely made up her mind when she noticed another sound under the water. Someone was crying.

She rushed through the override code and the bathroom door slid open. Instantly, she was hit by a wave of steam. It was a few seconds before she could see anything.

Data was standing in the shower, under water that, judging from the steam, would have been far too hot for any living person. Yellow tears streaked his face.

"_Data!_" Concern and near panic laced her voice.

He looked up slowly, focusing his eyes on her. "Tasha -"

It was the first time he'd said her name in days. "What are you _doing_?"

He slowly turned the shower off. "Trying to be clean."

"Data, if you were human you'd have cooked yourself. What is it, Data? What's eating you? What's making you act so differently?"

"It is not important."

"I think it is." She handed him a towel. "Come on into the bedroom and we'll talk, okay?"

He hesitated, but he did wrap the towel around his waist.

"Please?"

He nodded slowly. "All right."

She stepped out of the bathroom and he followed. He slid on a pair of sleep pants and sat down on the bed. She joined him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He twisted away.

"Please, do not."

"You don't want me to touch you?"

"No!" he said forcefully. "I _want_ - I _need _- but I cannot -"

"Why?"

"Because I am so unclean. I cannot allow you to touch me."

It hit her so suddenly it turned her stomach, but she had to ask. "Data - what did she _do _to you?"

"I have told you -"

"I don't think you've told me everything."

He dropped his head into his hands. "After I was - cut, she asked me if I was familiar with - physical forms of pleasure. She asked how long it had been since I had - I told her I used them regularly, she said I needed some variety, and she - she -" He broke off. "There is simply no other word for it. She raped me. And now I cannot remove the filth, the grime she has left on me. I cannot contaminate you."

"Oh, _Data_!" Unable to bear it anymore, she pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. His mind told him to push her away, not to touch her when he was so filthy, but he needed so badly to be held, to feel her love and her gentle touch. "Data, you _are_ clean. I know it doesn't feel that way, but you are." She pressed a kiss to his still-damp hair. "Is that why you've been ignoring me?"

"I _wanted_ this so desperately. I wanted to feel you and your touch, but I knew that if I allowed those touches I would not be able to let go." As if to prove his point, he had her tightly around the waist. "I _could not_ spread that filth to you." He dropped his head to her shoulder.

"And the anger?"

"It hurt so much," he whispered brokenly. "It felt like it was burning me inside. I could not stop those emotions from running over. I did not want to cry, and instead I yelled. Is everyone angry?"

"I think they're mostly worried. Like I was." She felt his shoulders hitch as he fought the urge to cry. "Shh, just let it out, darling. I'm right here."

Never, not even when he'd thought he'd possibly killed his best friend, had she seen Data cry this hard. Sobs tore through his body as his tears stained her collar. His hands clutched desperately at her shirt. "Hold me, hold me."

It broke her heart. "I'm right here." She tightened her grip, rocking him like a baby to calm him. "I'm not going to let go."

Tears consumed any further ability he had to speak. He buried his face in her shoulder as he cried, finally giving some expression to the pain he'd been holding inside. She pressed kiss after kiss to his head, still holding him tight.

"How do you feel?" she asked when the sobbing had stopped.

"I feel - I am uncertain."

"Describe it."

"I feel - I feel as though the energy has been sapped from my body. Is this normal?"

"Normal enough," she assured him, still stroking his hair. "You've heard of humans crying themselves to sleep? You can't physically wear yourself out, but you have emotions just like any of us, and I wouldn't be surprised to find that you can become emotionally exhausted."

"What do I do?"

"Rest. Just activate your dream program for awhile."

"I cannot." A look of terror crossed his face. "She comes when I am asleep."

"Just hold onto me. I'll be right here with you." She laid him back on the bed and slid into his arms. "Just let go, Data. Let go."

Yellow eyes slipped shut and he went limp. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes too.

xxxxxxxxx

Data slid silently out of bed, leaving his girlfriend to sleep. He hadn't been able to keep his dream program on for more than half an hour without succumbing to a nightmare and waking her in the process. He wanted to make sure she could get some sleep.

He realized he felt better than he had since before the Queen had hurt him. It still haunted him, but the burning anguish had been replaced by a duller ache. He didn't feel that same sense of being covered in grime anymore.

He couldn't help a rush of shame and sorrow. He'd hurt Tasha badly and in the process pushed away the one person whose help he had needed most. If he'd let her hug and comfort him when it had first happened, he would have saved himself days of pain and everyone around him the anger he'd unjustly fired at them.

He owed Geordi an apology, and the Captain too. Deciding professional came before personal, he took the lift to the bridge and rang the bell for the ready room.

"Come!"

"Captain."

"Mr. Data. Can I help you?"

"I wish to apologize. My behavior over the past few days has been unprofessional and unfair to many of the people I am working with. I was upset and I took it out on everyone around me."

"Data." He motioned for the android to sit. "Data, I understand how hard this is."

"With all due respect, sir, you do not."

"I've had my own encounters with the Borg before." There was just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"It was not the Borg. It was _her_. My report was - incomplete."

"Incomplete how?"

Barely choking back tears, he told his Captain a condensed version of what he'd told Tasha the night before. By the end, Picard's eyes were soft with sympathy.

"I - I had no idea. I'm so very sorry." He touched his second officer's shoulder gently. "If you need a few days off, I'll grant it."

"I do not need a few days. However," he added as something occurred to him, "if you could grant me a few _hours_, to attend to a personal matter -"

"Of course."

xxxxxxxxx

Geordi burst into tears and took his friend in a tight hug when Data finished speaking. "Data, Data - why didn't you _say_ something?"

"I felt humiliated. I had _allowed_ her to do what she did. At least, I did not resist her."

"And you saved all our lives. No one should have to make that choice. Data, is there anything I can do?"

"Well, now that you mention it, there is something you can help me with, although it is not directly related to the incident."

"Name it."

"There is something I need to prepare for. And in that vein, something I need to find."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha was rather amazed when she stepped through the door to what Data had prepared. "When did you have time to do all this? I thought you went to visit Lal." Their daughter was just beginning her first year at Starfleet Medical.

The table was set with white linen and fine, albeit replicated, china, complete with candles - a specific kind Tasha knew was designed not to set off the fire suppression systems.

"I wanted to give you something for helping me. And there is also something I wish to discuss with you. This would appear to be an appropriate venue."

"I'm certainly not complaining."

"Be careful," he warned as he poured the wine. "This is real alcohol. Courtesy of Captain Picard.

"Understood." She took her glass as Data set down a basket of bread on the table and sat across from her. "Data, you really didn't have to do this. You've done the same for me. What was it you wanted to discuss?"

"Not yet. Later."

"All right." She hoped he wasn't trying to break some bad news to her. "So how's Lal?"

Over bread and wine, they discussed their daughter's experiences at Starfleet Medical. Data cleared the bread basket and brought out two plates.

"The finest replicated Chicken Parmesan anywhere. I modified the recipe."

Before Tasha could suggest they discuss whatever it was, he began a discussion about Asil. Tasha knew it was an intentional diversion, but she also never missed an opportunity to talk about her sister. Data apparently knew this; he asked all the right questions to draw this conversation out through the entree.

"I hope you are not overly full." He served her a slice of cheesecake, complete with separate dessert fork. Tasha spoke first now, unwilling to let him distract her again. "What was it you wanted to discuss?"

"Try the dessert first. Then I promise I will explain."

"Well - all right."

She lifted the fork and something hit her in the fingers. Frowning, she took it into her hand. "Data, I think -" then, seeing the item, she stopped short. "Data?"

It was a ring. A white gold ring set with a pearl surrounded by four tiny diamonds.

"Our discussion," he said softly.

"Data - does this mean what I think it means?"

"You have always been there for me, and I for you. I have come to realize that what we share is special, and not something I could bear to ever lose. You are the only woman I have ever loved, but perhaps more relevantly you are the only woman for whom I have felt anything _resembling_ love. I know I do not want to be without you." He stood and dropped to one knee. "Tasha Yar, will you marry me?"

She wouldn't have thought it was possible to smile so widely. "Of course I will."

**I know there's some debate as to how much consent was involved in Data's encounter with the Borg Queen, but I've chosen this angle for two reasons. First off, it seems clear to me watching that scene that she's taking advantage of his emotional instability (which she caused), and secondly even if he did give some level of consent in the canon version, I think Tasha's presence would shift that dynamic, because he wouldn't cheat.**

**Please review.**


	20. Chapter Twenty: The Ring Reveal

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty: The Ring Reveal**_

"Hey, Tasha, do you have a free hand?" Miles O'Brien asked from his position lying on his back under a console on the _Defiant_.

"I'm not an engineer, Miles." With the _Enterprise _repairs well underway, Tasha had migrated over to the _Defiant_, whose repairs had been delayed because O'Brien had made so many modifications to it that even Scotty couldn't make heads or tails of some of the systems. Fortunately O'Brien himself and a team familiar with his work and with the _Defiant_ had arrived the day before. What she had thought she could accomplish other than a check-in she didn't know.

"That's okay, I'll tell you what to do. I know what has to be done, I just don't have enough hands."

"Okay, okay." She let him talk her through the repair. They were almost finished when Miles, trying to get into position in the extremely limited space, hit the nearby chair he was using as a tool bench and sent his tools flying in every direction. Including directly at them.

Tasha's right hand was caught up in some cabling, but her left hand was free and she pulled off a fairly spectacular left-handed catch of some tool she didn't even know the name for. However, as she did, her hand caught the light from the console. Or, more precisely, what was _on _her hand caught the light from the console. She didn't notice, but Miles did.

"Tasha, did I just see what I think I just saw?"

"What did you think you saw?"

"Hand me that, would you? That tool in your hand."

She reached out to give it to him, but instead of taking it, he just smirked. "I knew it!"

"What?"

"What's on your finger isn't exactly costume jewelry. Oh, and I don't actually need that. I just wanted to confirm a hypothesis, if you will. So when's the wedding?"

"We haven't set a date yet. He only asked me last night." _And we spent the rest of the night with other concerns. _Surprisingly, Data's experiences with the Queen hadn't made him hesitant in that particular area. When she'd asked the fifth time if he was sure, he had kindly asked her to shut up already.

"Who knows?"

"You're the first. We thought it'd be fun not to tell anyone, just to see how long it takes someone to notice, and of course once someone knows -"

"Everyone will," Miles finished, laughing. "That's how it was when I proposed to Keiko. Someone happened to walk by the Arboretum and the next thing I know the entire ship's congratulating me."

"Do me a favor and don't tell anyone on the _Enterprise._ The experiment's no fun if some ops officer who's not even a member of the crew anymore throws a wrench in things." She watched her tone, making sure it would come off as joking.

"Don't worry. My lips are sealed."

xxxxxxxxx

"Anyone?" Data whispered as he walked past her.

She shook her head. A more complicated explanation of what had happened with Miles would have to wait for somewhere more private, especially since they were trying to avoid any hints.

Geordi grinned broadly at her when he knew she was looking but didn't say anything, and from the look he shared with Data she knew he'd been in on it all.

Deanna practically skipped onto the bridge, and Will turned to her. "What's got you in such a good mood?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just sense happiness."

"From who?"

Another shrug. "It's in this area somewhere."

Geordi chose that moment to burst out laughing. Tasha resisted the urge to glare at him as she forced back her own grin and everyone looked at the engineer, who shrugged innocently and kept laughing until Data subtly hit him, and then he went back to his work still grinning his head off.

Picard just shook his head, used to this kind of bantering from his senior staff, especially while they were still in drydock being repaired. Of course, it helped that he'd noticed the rather obvious ring on his Chief of Security's left hand almost as soon as she'd stepped onto the bridge and was just waiting to see when someone else would catch on.

He didn't have to wait long. Jenna D'Sora stepped onto the bridge with a security report and still had half an eye on it when Tasha took it in her hand. Her _left_ hand. The resulting "Oh my God!" brought the entire bridge to a halt. All except Geordi, who cracked up again, and Data, who joined him this time.

"Since when?" she asked, her voice still high-pitched with excitement.

"Wait, back up." Deanna was now facing them. "Since when _what_?"

Apparently beyond the point of rational speech, Jenna just grabbed Tasha's hand, holding it out as Exhibit A, as it were. Deanna shrieked so loudly that Picard winced and Will put his hands to his ears. She all but vaulted the console to hug her. Will caught on to what he'd seen a few seconds later, and Data found himself thumped on the back so hard he was almost thrown off-balance.

Picard was more reserved, but a smile split his face in two as he embraced the bride-to-be, giving him a chance to whisper, "I saw it right away. I just wanted to see how long it would take."

Stepping back, he regarded her like a father. "So, when's the happy day?"

"We have not set one yet." Data peeled Deanna off of him and joined his new fiancee. "We must consider other issues, such as location, before making such a decision." He shared a look with Tasha, a silent conversation, almost an argument, before she spoke up.

"There is something we wanted to ask though."

"Name it."

"When we do set the date - there's no one we'd rather have make it official than you. Would you do it?"

He was silent for a long moment, and she was worried he would refuse. But it was in a voice choked with emotion that he said, "of course I will."

xxxxxxxxx

"How many did you get?"

"Forty-seven exactly. You?"

"I lost count at fifty."

As they had predicted, it hadn't taken long for the news of their engagement to spread. They had been endlessly congratulated as a couple, and once they had had to separate as individuals.

"So, the details."

"I don't want this to be just a big production. Don't get me wrong, I want _big_. We have enough friends for big. But I want it to be about _us_, not about putting on a show."

"All right. I suppose the first question is when. My suggestion would be April nineteenth."

"What's April nineteenth?"

A warm smile crossed his face. "You do not remember? The day we met."

"I remember the meeting. I didn't remember the exact date off the top of my head. The nineteenth it is."

"So then the next question would be where."

"A place that's special to us, big enough to hold everyone we'd probably be inviting."

"A tall order."

"Hey, what about the house in Pennsylvania? The one where we had Christmas?"

"The house is big, but not big enough."

"But the property is. We could use the house for the wedding party and other people we're close to and ask everyone else to either get a hotel room or beam in the day of. It'll be warm enough to hold an outdoor wedding, and I've heard Weather Control is pretty good about accommodating major outdoor events."

"Perfect. So - the wedding party? Best Man is, I believe, obvious."

"Well, yeah. Asil for Maid of Honor, if she'll agree. Then on your side of the aisle we have Will and Worf, and on mine we have Beverly and Deanna and Lal, of course. And what would you say to including Jim on your side? As a favor to me?"

"I do not mind. I know he is a close friend. I would like to include the O'Briens as well. Molly could serve as our 'flower girl'."

"Perfect. What about ring-bearer?"

"Leah Brahms' oldest son had been my idea."

"And a good one it is. Very well, that rounds out the party."

"Will you be asking someone to walk you down the aisle?"

"Uncle Dave." Data had met her father's long-lost brother once while they were on Earth.

"You will need someone to fill the mother's traditional role as well."

"Data, there was never a scripted traditional role! But," she added, "for the more unofficial duties, I'll ask Kate Pulaski and Julia to help me, and you have Juliana on your side. I think the biggest problem will be relegating Deanna's mother to a secondary role."

Data shuddered theatrically and they both laughed. "I believe that is everything."

"All the basics. From what I've heard, wedding planning isn't quite this simple. We'll remember a hundred small details next week or next month. But yeah, we've got the big stuff in place."

xxxxxxxxx

"Your call sounded important."

"Important, but personal, as I said. I really meant for this to be understood as less of a priority than a meeting or whatever. I hope I didn't pull you away from anything official."

"Actually," Admiral Paris admitted with a grin that made him look more like his son than she had ever seen him, "you did, and thank you so much."

She laughed. "That bad, huh?"

"There's an old joke that says a camel is a horse designed by a committee. I'm beginning to believe it. What did you need?"

"There's, uh, something I should tell you." She wasn't actually entirely sure how to say it. She hadn't had to tell anyone else, they'd figured it out themselves. "I'm, uh, getting married in April."

"Well, that's n- wait, you're _what_?"

She waved the ring on her left hand at him. "I'm getting married in April."

"Well, congratulations." He shook his head in amazement. "It seems like just yesterday I was presiding over your mother's wedding. Was that -?"

"Uh, no." She hadn't thought of that. "No offense, but we, ah, asked someone else."

"Your Captain." He smiled at the surprised raise of her eyebrow. "I've seen from a distance that you're quite close with him. I've never met anyone else who would willingly be demoted from first officer, twice no less, to serve as Chief of Security. But I assume you didn't call me down here just to share the news."

"No. We wanted to use the house in Pennsylvania for the wedding. Actually, that monstrosity that passes for a backyard. It's yours so I thought I'd ask."

"Of course you can. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"Come to dinner tonight. Moira and her kids are coming too. We'll make the announcement official."

"All right."

xxxxxxxxx

"Remember what I said about the entire ship knowing before the day was out?"

"Yes, of course."

"I think I misspoke." Tasha gave a rueful smile. "I think the entire state of Virginia will know before the day is out."

Julia had needed no prompting at all to notice the ornament her husband had missed, and had promptly crushed Tasha in a hug before announcing it to the entire house - meaning Moira, her husband and their two children - and probably the whole neighborhood, judging by her volume. Moira had recieved with a smile and a shake of her head, clearly used to her mother's enthusiasm.

"Well, everyone we wanted to tell personally knows, correct?"

"Not quite. I was planning to tell Uncle Dave and Asil tomorrow. Hopefully the gossip mill won't spread it over the entire continent before I get the chance."

"I doubt that. But there is something more productive we could do than worry."

"Don't you ever get tired?" she laughed.

"My stamina is unending, if you will recall. I am _always_ 'ready and willing if you are'."

"Well, for tonight," she grinned, "I certainly am."

xxxxxxxxx

"Have you been waiting long?"

"Not so long. What kept you?"

"I didn't count on my uncle." Upon hearing that his favorite niece (_I'm your only niece_ arguments had gone nowhere) was engaged, he'd all but paraded her through the streets, and he and Alan had insisted on bringing her down to the restaurant where they'd first met and announcing it to Joseph Sisko and the other guests. She'd gotten away only when she'd insisted she was going to be late, and even then they'd kept her long enough to make her concern come true and she'd been five minutes late for a meeting with one of the most punctual people she knew. "I don't know him that well, and I didn't expect him to make the scene he did."

Most people would have asked why he made a scene. Asil wasn't one of them. She knew Tasha would tell her if and when she wanted her to know. "What did you want to see me about?"

"I have news for you." Asil only nodded, and Tasha continued. "I'm getting married."

A very slight smile crossed her face. "My congratulations."

"Thanks, but there's something in particular I wanted to ask of you."

"What?"

"In Earth customs, the bride selects one woman that she has a particularly close relationship with to stand up next to her at the wedding. You're the closest female friend I have. Will you do it?"

"I'd consider it an honor."

Tasha did what few humans could get away with doing and hugged her Vulcan sister. "I knew I could count on you."

"I do have one question."

"Yes?"

"What exactly do I do?"

Tasha burst out laughing. "I'll send you a list."

**If I screw up on the wedding planning, I'm nineteen and happily single and I've been to five weddings in my whole life, only one of which actually included me in the party. Just assume some things have changed between now and _Trek_ time.**

**Please review.**


	21. Chapter TwentyOne: Overshadowed

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty-One: Overshadowed  
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"I cannot believe we have to be separated."

"I know." Tasha had been specifically asked to join Captain Kirk on a reconnaissance mission to the Gamma Quadrant, a strictly two-person job. "But it'll only be a week."

They shared another kiss. "I will miss you."

"I'll miss you."

His hand caressed the ring he'd put on hers. "Come back to me, Tasha. Come back safely."

They kissed again, longer this time. "I will, Data. I promise you."

xxxxxxxxx

"So." Jim grinned at her. "How's the wedding planning going?"

"Well, it's a good thing I have a fiance with a perfect memory," she laughed. "We can't forget anything we already discussed. But we still keep coming up with stuff. We started a month ago, and it was the day before yesterday we realized that we hadn't arranged for food."

"It's September. You have time until April."

"Maybe that's why people have long engagements. It gives them time to remember everything they forgot about the wedding."

They both laughed, and the sound filled the small runabout.

"Have you ever thought about getting married, Jim?"

He grew suddenly serious. "Twice, actually. Three times if you count twice to the same woman."

"Who?"

"The first one was Carol Marcus. David's mother. I really did love her, but she was so certain I was only asking because she was pregnant, and she was worried he'd turn out too much like me. I never even met him until he was an adult."

"I'm sorry."

"The second was Edith Keeler. I thought she was the most wonderful woman I'd ever known. Smart, beautiful, kind, and unbelievably interested in me."

"What happened?"

"I met Edith in nineteen-thirty."

"Time travel." She sighed.

"Exactly. My doctor went back in time and changed history, and Spock and I had to go back and fix the problem. We ran into Edith after we ended up hiding in the basement of the shelter she ran."

"Why were you hiding in a basement?" She couldn't help the off-topic interjection. The mental image was so funny, she wanted to know it had come to be.

He laughed despite himself. "We arrived on the street in our Starfleet uniforms. I, ah, borrowed some clothing from a balcony and got caught by a policeman. My explanation was, ah, less than perfect. Ask Spock sometime, he'll remember exactly what I said, but suffice to say it ended with Spock neck-pinching the officer and running away looking for a place to hide."

"And what happened with Edith?"

"We had to figure out what McCoy had changed. It turned out Edith was the focal point. In the original timeline, _our_ timeline, she had died in a traffic accident. But in the altered timeline, when McCoy went back in time he saved her. She was such an angel - her pacifism delayed the United States' entry into World War II, giving Germany a chance to conquer the world." He bit his lip. "In order to save our future, I had to stand there and let her die, knowing I _could_ have saved her. I've never been able to forgive myself for that."

"How many other people died in that alternate timeline?" she pointed out gently.

"I know, I know. The needs of the many and all that. But twice now, the one has been someone I loved dearly."

"Spock," she realized. The story of the Vulcan's death and resurrection was a matter of some public record. For one thing, it had gotten the man sitting next to her demoted from Admiral to Captain - right where he belonged, in her opinion and she knew in his too.

"Spock. What have you got?"

"What? Oh." She realized they'd reached a point they had to mark. "Nothing. Just background noise. Wait, what's that?"

"What's what?"

"That. I've got a sensor blip, just barely in range. Hang on."

"We're not going closer!"

"Of course not. I just want to see if I can tweak the sensors a little, get a clearer picture. Uh oh."

"What?"

"Jem'Hadar."

"Those cloned Dominion attack dog-type fighters I was reading about?"

"That's them."

"Let's get the hell out of here."

"I couldn't agree more. Lay in course -"

But he broke off suddenly. The ship had apparently put in a tiny warp jump and was now hovering above them. Almost before they could blink, several Jem'Hadar were on the shuttle with them.

xxxxxxxxx

"Do you remember what happened?"

"The last thing I remember is those Jem'Hadar boarding us."

"Same. They must have stunned us or something." She rubbed her head as if that would clear the fog from it.

A tall Jem'Hadar approached them. Jim spoke first. "Where are we and what have you done with us?"

"No questions," the soldier said shortly. "This is Internment camp three seven one. You are here because you are enemies of the Dominion. There is no release, no escape, except death."

She and Kirk glanced at each other, barely resisting the urge to roll their eyes.

"They have been scanned. They have no weapons and their identities have been confirmed," said a guard.

"Very well. You will be sheltered in barracks six. You are free to move about the compound. But remember, beyond the atmospheric dome there is nothing but airless vacuum and barren rock. Leave the dome, even for an instant, and you die."

"Come on, Jim." Tasha pulled him away from the guards before the temper she knew he had could flare up.

Once they were out of earshot, she leaned forward and spoke softly. "If we're going to get out of here, we won't be doing it alone. I say we go meet our new roommates."

The barracks was in complete chaos when they entered. It looked to Tasha like they were trying to hide something, though they were doing a good enough job that it was impossible to say what.

"You are not Jem'Hadar," a gravelly voice said finally, and everybody relaxed marginally.

"No," said Tasha, fighting an absurd desire to laugh at the extremely obvious statement.

"Well, I'll be." The source of the voice, a Klingon with one eye missing, finally showed himself. "Captain Kirk himself."

"In the flesh." The man in question gave an easy grin.

"It cannot be." This from a Romulan woman. "Captain Kirk is dead."

"It was said just before I was captured that he had returned. I dismissed it as a rumor. It seems I was mistaken."

"I think you have an advantage over us," Tasha said smoothly. "You know who my companion is, but we don't know who you are."

"I am General Martok of the Klingon Defense Force, and this is Commander Duval and Subcommander Solam of the Tal Shiar." He indicated the woman and a Romulan man. "We don't know his name." This while pointing at a Breen who lay silent on a bunk. "And later you'll meet Enabran Tain of the Obsidian Order. He's busy right now."

"Tasha Yar, Lieutenant Commander, Starfleet. Is whatever Tain's busy with what it was you didn't want us to see?"

Martok gave her an approving look. "Very astute, Commander. Although the secrecy had nothing to do with _you_, specifically. It's the Jem'Hadar we're worried about.

"What are you doing?"

"More like what's he doing. This is an old mining colony, and these barracks used to all have their own life support systems, which are now just inactive machines sitting inside the walls. He's re-wiring one into a transmitter."

"A transmitter? What's he transmitting?"

"A coded message, to an operative in the Alpha Quadrant. Something about a tailor. He wasn't making much sense on that part.

"A tailor? What's he going to do, sew us a transporter?" Kirk asked, astonished.

"That was my reaction."

Tasha said nothing at all.

xxxxxxxxx

"So tell me," Tasha asked. "How long until you finish the transmitter?"

"Probably a few weeks at least," Tain admitted.

"And what do you think Garak will do when he gets it?"

"Well, if he's - wait, what? How -?"

"How did I know who you were sending the message to? How many Cardassian tailors that have previously worked in the spy business are out there? And anyway, I can tell you know him well."

"How's that?"

"You have a lot of the same very small mannerisms, things you're probably not even aware you do. But the only people who tend to share so many of the exact same little quirks are people who are either blood-related, or have spent a lot of time, by which I mean a question of years, together, or both."

"Has anyone ever told you you'd make an excellent spy yourself?"

"Once." She wasn't entirely sure why Tain didn't scare her like most Cardassians did. Maybe it was because he reminded her so much of the one Cardassian who she might go so far as to call a friend.

"I have to ask you one thing. How did you know Garak was a spy? More observations?"

"Nothing so complicated. I met him once in Cardassian space, when he was trying to get information from a Gul Dukat." She couldn't stop her voice from cracking a little on the name, but he was courteous enough not to comment. "Then I met him again as a tailor. I can put two and two together."

"All the same, I'd appreciate it if news of your particular form of arithmetic didn't get out."

"You have my word."

xxxxxxxxx

"So, what do you think?"

"Of what?" The prison's only two human inmates were seated on Jim's bunk, speaking in whispers so they wouldn't be overheard.

"Tain's plan. Is it going to work?"

She sighed. "I won't lie to you. A lot of things could go wrong, and we're putting an awful lot of eggs in one basket. But what else can we do?"

"What indeed?" He looked around. "You know, this camp could teach the Alpha Quadrant something."

"What's that?"

"Look at us. The four main Alpha Quadrant powers. Federation, Klingon, Romulan, and Cardassian, and it doesn't matter a bit to anyone. We're all standing together in the face of adversity."

"There's some irony there," Tasha said softly. "I have a feeling that if anything can unite the powers on the other side of the wormhole, that same adversity will be it."

"Amen to that." She knew he was still thinking about the Khitomer Accords, which they hadn't been able to reforge yet.

They were interrupted by Martok, who stumbled in gasping for breath. Tasha and Jim had learned that Martok was forced to fight Jem'Hadar warriors on a regular basis, an activity which had cost him his eye and caused more than a few other injuries. As the only prisoner with any medical knowledge, she had become his doctor.

"What's the damage today? And don't sugarcoat it."

Martok had quickly come to respect Tasha the first time he'd fired an angry stream of Klingon at her and she'd calmly replied that he'd just told her the sky was green and the floor was upside-down. He'd admitted it readily enough, accepting that she was really telling him she couldn't be intimidated _and_ that she knew enough about his people not to be fooled by a simple trick.

"He got one right in the chest."

"Let me have a look." She sighed. "God, while I can't wish for someone else to be locked up in this place, I really wish we had a doctor now."

"Ask and you shall recieve."

She did a full 180 degree turn to see a tall man standing behind her. "What the hell?"

"Doctor Julian Bashir at your service."

"Dominion works fast," Kirk said with a raised eyebrow, and the man smiled uncomfortably. "That was a joke."

"Right. What's the trouble?"

Tasha gestured to Martok. "Jem'Hadar beat him up pretty badly. From what I heard, he put up quite a fight, too."

Bashir went to work. "The last thing I remember is falling asleep in my hotel room at a burn treatment conference. Next thing I know, I'm here."

"Well, while I can't be grateful for anyone else being incarcerated here, having a doctor could be a serious help. Martok's not the issue, either."

"Who is?"

"We have an elderly Cardassian here who appears to be in ill health. He thinks I don't know, but I've seen him struggling to breathe. He's also our only hope to get out of here."

"I'm flattered."

Tasha's head snapped around. So did Julian's.

"How much did you hear?" she asked resignedly.

"From 'ill health.' But I do appreciate you trying to respect my desire not to tell you." Tasha had managed to win Tain's rather grudging respect as well.

"Tain?" Julian, in a state of apparent shock, probably hadn't heard a word they'd just spoken.

"In the flesh. And you, Bashir, have a knack for turning up in unusual places."

"Oh, you've met before?"

"Yes. The good doctor tracked me down, on my retirement colony no less, to help him solve a problem. But then, there was always more to you than met the eye, wasn't there?"

"Maybe." The word sounded forced, and Tasha noticed him looking out of the corner of his eye at Kirk, of all people. What did Kirk have to do with any of this?

"Doctor, I may need your help on our escape plan."

"Mine?"

There was definitely something Tain _wasn't_ saying when he said "well, you did take some engineering extension courses at Starfleet Medical, didn't you?"

**Why is Julian so uncomfortable, and what is Tain hiding? Well, if you watch DS9 you may know, and if not you'll know soon enough. One hint: Kirk did mention the second time that he lost someone because the needs of many outweighed the needs of one. The circumstances therein will become important in that same arc.**

**This chapter references the TOS episode _The City on the Edge of Forever_and the DS9 episode _The Wire_, and the plot is based on the two-parter _In Purgatory's Shadow/By Inferno's Light._**

**Please review.**


	22. Chapter TwentyTwo: Making Connections

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty-Two: Making Connections**_

"Some extension course," Tasha said to Julian. "You were doing those numbers in your head like a human computer."

"And she would know," Kirk added. "She's marrying one."

Under normal circumstances, this would have warranted at least an elbow, but now it sent a pang through her as she realized for the first time in a week what this captivity meant. "Yeah, if we ever get out of here."

"Don't be so pessimistic." Tain crawled out of the wall. "We'll get out of here."

"But Jim's right," she added. "It _was_ almost like listening to Data doing those calculations."

"You must be exaggerating. How's it coming along, Tain?"

"Quite well. So what do I do for this tedious hour you insist on?"

Tasha had managed to find a way to apply her own skills at tactical to the situation and had insisted that Tain take an hour break after every six hours of work so that the guards wouldn't notice that he never seemed to be anywhere. It was also an excuse to force him to give his aging body a chance at some much-needed rest.

"It couldn't hurt you to get to know us for awhile."

"I suppose not," he admitted. For reasons she couldn't understand, he seemed to have almost a soft spot for her. "But really, I'd like to speak with you for a few moments. _Alone._"

"Do you mind?"

"No." Julian signaled to Commander Duval, who had been guarding the door. The Breen was still there but it was easy to register him as a sort of non-presence. He barely moved and hadn't spoken a word to anyone yet.

"I know who you are," Tain said once they were alone.

"I haven't tried to hide that," she replied impassively. What was he getting at?

"I know a little bit that you haven't been telling."

"Such as?"

"Where you met Garak. And under what circumstances."

Her blood ran cold. "How -?"

"You're not the only one who's good at mathematics here. I knew there was _something_ of interest to Garak on Celtris Three, and a little snooping revealed what - or rather _who_ - Dukat had there."

"Don't mention that name," she snapped. Then the fire drained from her. "Please. It's hard enough being imprisoned without all the reminders of the last time I was taken prisoner in the line of duty."

He gave a very slight nod, acknowledging her statement. "I recognized your name the moment you introduced yourself. Your mention of _him _only confirmed it. Garak took a few risks for you."

"Did he?"

"Something about you must have charmed him. He tried to trade for you with - you know who. Also offered a few pointers, supposedly on interrogation. For example, that it might be worth feeding a captive so they're coherent enough to talk. All in the name of effective information-gathering, but your information wasn't that good, and he hadn't been so insistent about anyone else, ever."

_Five days of hell and I never knew I had a secret ally._ Her experience with Garak had been limited to a few brief, moderately kind words, the only ones she'd heard in that entire time.

"For what it's worth, I agree he went too far."

"I've heard a lot about the Obsidian Order. What makes you so much better?"

"There is an art to what we do."

"An art to torture. That's a laugh."

"_He_ had no real reason to do what he did. There wasn't any real information he could get from you, and Madred must have known he couldn't break your Captain Picard that easily. You weren't even supposed to be there in the first place. It wasn't information-gathering, it was the causation of pain for personal pleasure. Breaking you for the sake of breaking you."

"What's the difference?"

"Any crime is a worse crime if it serves no purpose."

"Your race doesn't live by that. They kill for sport."

"The Ordernever did. We were careful about our targets."

"You can justify murder and torture all you want, but that doesn't make it right."

"Maybe not in your mind. But an Order agent never _enjoys_ torture. It's a necessary evil, a means to an end, nothing more or less than that. Your Federation may see it as cruel, but it isn't on the same level with hurting someone for the sake of hurting them."

"You've never taken pleasure out of hurting anyone?"

"Of course I have. Haven't you?"

"_What_?"

"All right, you've never actually hurt anyone. But haven't you ever been delighted to lock someone up? Haven't you ever _wanted_ to hurt a prisoner?"

"When we captured the man who killed my sister," she admitted softly, "I had to put my second-in-command in charge. I didn't trust myself to be alone with him."

"There, you see? How is that so different?"

"Because I restrained myself. I didn't torture him."

"As I restrained myself. It didn't matter what I wanted. I did everything according to Order procedure. Something others of my race never were able to understand."

"I won't concede that it was right what you did, no matter how you argue it."

"I'd be disappointed if you did." The familiar rapport was starting to come back.

"But I _will_ admit that you aren't so different from humans a few centuries ago," she said grudgingly. "What you did was wrong, Enabran, but it would be wrong for me to act like humans are somehow superior because of it."

"Agreed."

xxxxxxxxx

"There are a number of stories flying around about you, Captain," Tain said. "And half of them false, I don't doubt. It can't be true that you resurrected a dead man."

"Well, I had very little to do with it. It was a combination of extremely improbable circumstances."

"A dead man was brought back to life?" Tain said in astonishment. "How?"

"Well, it's a two-part thing. Spock, my first officer, knew he was about to walk to his death. Our warp drive was down and we were in imminent danger. If we didn't get out of there in time, we would all be dead. He entered the contaminated reactor room to fix the drive. But before he did, he implanted his memories, his consciousness if you will, in another man. It was meant to be taken back to Vulcan and entombed, if you will. But it didn't work that well."

"What happened?" Tasha asked. "The details aren't public knowledge. I only know of the result."

"Well, it's a bit of a complicated story, and even I don't fully understand that. What I can tell you is that during the battle that got us into that situation, a device was activated that created a new planet out of a lifeless one. We shot Spock's coffin into the atmosphere of that planet, intending for it to incinerate in the atmosphere. Instead it soft-landed, and the power of Genesis resurrected the body. With no small difficulty," here he briefly glanced out of the corner of his eye at Martok, but didn't say anything to him, "we returned the body, and the man bearing his consciousness, to Vulcan, where experts were able to rejoin them."

"There's a device that can remake dead planets?" Solam's voice was soft with awe. "Why have we heard nothing about it?"

"First of all, it didn't work. The planet went through its entire cycle of life in a few weeks before becoming even more inhospitable. Secondly, the device was destroyed, and most of the scientists involved were killed by a madman trying to steal a ship."

"Were you involved in the creation of this device?" Martok asked.

"No. Well, I suppose it couldn't have happened the same way without me, but I wasn't directly involved. Why?"

"You know an awful lot about it."

"I got involved right at the end. But frankly, the deaths of those scientists were my fault. I made a stupid mistake, followed it up with _another_ stupid mistake, and thanks to that a lot of good people died."

"What _are_ you talking about?" Tain asked with an air of detached interest.

"We ran across a ship with some odd lifesigns, and discovered a number of sleeper pods. We should have left well enough alone, but no, we had to investigate. That ship contained some of the worst criminals Earth has ever known, and we woke them up. Then we dumped them on an uninhabited planet and never came back to check on them. By the time someone ran across them, the planet had undergone serious emotional change, and Khan and his men were mad as hell, leading them to kill all those people."

"What were they doing in space in the first place?" Martok wasn't as guarded about his curiosity.

"It was a transport ship, a form of prison if you will. It wasn't safe to keep them anywhere on Earth, them being what they were, but no one was really comfortable with mass executions."

"If you don't mind my asking," Duval put in, "what were they? You're getting ahead of yourself."

"They were a race of genetically engineered humans. One of Earth's worst experiments ever. These super-humans, if you will, decided they were better than anyone else and nearly took over the world before anyone stopped them."

"Genetic engineering?" Martok frowned. "Like what the Dominion do?"

"Ah - how do I explain -" Kirk faltered.

"Genetic engineering," Julian explained slowly, "is the process of selectively altering a person's DNA to change their characteristics. There is some similarity with the Jem'Hadar, but it's not quite the same thing. In their case the modifications are worked into the clones from the time of cloning. It's more like the originals were engineered, and now they just clone the engineering. They're born, if you can call it that, exactly as they are. In those humans, the modifications were made to alter people who were already living. It's also currently illegal in the Federation, following the incident Captain Kirk mentioned."

"As it should be," Kirk added emphatically. "People like that don't belong in society. They're dangerous to the last man."

"You don't know that!" Julian snapped, suddenly almost defensive.

"Why do you care? You're not one of those doctors who'd like to run genetic experiments, are you?"

"No - that's not it -" he protested, fumbling.

Tasha's jaw dropped as her blue eyes lit up with understanding. Finally, it all clicked. "No, I don't think that's it at all."

"Then what is it?" Jim was quite agitated now, but Tasha knew it wasn't personal. Khan and the subsequent events had robbed him of two of the most important people in his life, not to mention his ship and a lot of good crewmembers.

"Human computer may have been a bit of a stretch, but I wasn't imagining things when I thought you were doing those calculations faster than a normal human could. Recreational mathematics wouldn't teach you that. And you know an awful lot about exactly what human genetic engineering is and what it does."

Julian sighed, dropping his face into his hands. "I was six years old," he admitted softly. "I didn't even understand what was going on. When I was a child, I was - severely impaired mentally. My parents couldn't stand it. I was taken to a secret treatment facility and had my DNA resequenced. It wasn't until I was fifteen that they even told me what they'd done." He met Kirk's eyes finally. "I don't want to be better than anyone else."

"Why keep it secret, then?" Kirk asked rather harshly.

"All I want is the same opportunities that would be given to a person who wasn't engineered, and yet if anyone knew I wouldn't have them. I didn't _ask_ to be this way. Why should I spend my life an outcast because of it? Why should I be barred from serving in Starfleet or practicing medicine because of something that was done to me without my understanding or consent?"

"You have advantages -"

"Medicine's not a _contest_! I mean, sure, there are awards, and if they wanted to ban me from ever receiving an award then I'd understand! Medicine is about saving lives. That's what I want to do."

"It isn't right!"

"Jim, will you shut up and listen for a second?" One good thing about being on more equal terms with Jim than she was Picard was that she didn't hesitate to tell him off as long as they were off-duty. "Whether it was right or not isn't Julian's concern. He didn't make that choice. Now that it's made, the question is what to do about it? Denying him the right to practice medicine or serve in Starfleet won't undo what was done. To me it seems like nothing more than retribution, a punishment for being submitted unwillingly to an illegal medical procedure."

This actually seemed to take him aback for a second. "I - I never thought of it that way."

"Listen, Jim. I know what Khan and the others took from you. But just because they were genetically engineered and they did that doesn't mean that every genetically engineered person is responsible." She took his arm gently and sat him on a bunk, realizing he was starting to calm down. "You told me that the Khitomer accords were a sign of the fact that you'd learned to stop blaming all Klingons for killing David. Maybe it's time to bury this hatchet now."

"I - ah -"

"Just think about it." She squeezed his arm, then left him and walked over to hug the distraught doctor. "Don't worry. He'll come around."

xxxxxxxxx

"Strangest thing that ever happened on my ship?"

Tasha's prediction had come true. Bashir and Kirk were still walking on eggshells a bit around each other, but the ice had started to thaw. It was clear Kirk was taking Tasha's words of admonishment seriously. He'd been the first to respond to the question Bashir had thrown to the floor, as it were.

"Probably the ship getting taken over by a race of breeding furballs."

"You mean the tribbles?" Julian asked.

"Yes. You must really be sharp on history."

"Ah - not exactly. We sort of got caught up in the middle of that."

"Time travel." There was a definate glint of amusement in Kirk's eye. "What happened?"

"Remember the man you arrested at the end of that mission?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"Well, he managed to get aboard the _Defiant _at the same time as we had a device that could take someone back in time. He decided to go back to that time and assassinate you before you could make that discovery. We ended up crawling all over the station and the ship trying - successfully, I might add - to stop him. We got caught up in a bar brawl, too."

"Oh, I remember the brawl."

"Remember the first guy you asked who started it?"

"Yeah, vaguely, what about him?"

"Miles O'Brien. Chief of Operations, Deep Space Nine."

"Oh, dear God." Kirk was laughing now.

"He thought it was the funniest thing. Especially that he lied to you. 'I lied to Captain Kirk'! He couldn't wait to tell his wife."

Their laughter melded, as for the first time they really talked as friends. "I take it that since I'm here, it turned out all right."

"Yes - with one hitch. Our Chief of Security had a few too many pockets on his coat, and he forgot to check them until we were already back to our own time."

"Oh, don't tell me -"

"Worf told me about that!" Tasha inserted herself into the conversation. "It drove him up the wall!"

"It took us _ages_ to get them all off the station. We found an uninhabited planet to settle them on. Miles and I managed to devise a transporter that would track tribble lifesigns. We got them onto a ship and sent them off. Plenty of food and space."

"The two things tribbles need the most of."

"Exactly."

"You time-travel much on that station?" Kirk asked conversationally. "I remember we always seemed to be someplace - or rather, some_time _- we weren't supposed to."

"There's only one other that I remember. An accident with a temporal singularity interacted with some chronoton particles on our hull, and so we materialized exactly where we were supposed to -"

"But not when," Kirk finished. "And we're not talking about a few days, are we?"

"Try a few centuries. 2024, to be exact. We were supposed to be in Starfleet Headquarters. Instead we materialized outside a train station."

"Wait a second." Tasha sat up slowly. "San Francisco, 2024 -"

"The Bell Riots," Kirk finished for her. "How close did you come?"

"We got caught right in the middle of it," he said softly. "I've never seen anything so awful. The Sanctuary was bad enough to start off with, all those people crammed into a tiny space, killing each other for food or over a slip of the tongue. Gabriel Bell was killed trying to save Captain Sisko from a fight."

"But that's -" Kirk began.

"The man they named the riots after," Tasha finished.

"Captain Sisko took on his identity. Convinced someone to fake his death after it was all over. But, God, I didn't know it could get that bad. I mean, humans like to think we're so much better than Klingons or Cardassians or Romulans, but if push comes to shove, if something happens to the Federation, if things get bad enough, how would we react?"

"I think humans have failed that test a few times in more recent history." Tasha shared a long look with Jim, and she knew they were on the same page mentally. "The Federation usually tries to pretend those happenings didn't happen because they don't want to answer that very question.

"I remember talking about that with Captain Sisko after we got back. He told me that his very first mission, a special assignment when he was still in the Academy, involved a check-in visit to a planet that the Federation had lost contact with a few years earlier. Apparently in the interim, it had pretty much completely self-destructed. Curzon - Dax's last host, you know - he was there too, and was actually down on the planet. Jadzia got very tight-lipped, wouldn't even talk about it."

"It's a pretty horrifying sight," Tasha said quietly.

"You've been there too?" Julian asked. "Were you on that mission?"

"I was rescued by that mission," she whispered. "I was fifteen years old, and I'd lived on that planet my whole life."

"Was it really as bad as Captain Sisko said?"

"Worse. He didn't actually see it, they wouldn't let him beam down. Jadzia's probably closer to understanding how bad it really was."

"Closer? You mean she's not all the way there?" Julian looked horrified.

"I suspect not. A brief mission, fully armed, can't really capture what it was like to _live_ there."

"No, I suppose it can't. It's just - Jadzia said it made San Francisco 2024 look tame."

"It probably did. I can't imagine Earth ever got that bad."

"Why - why don't more people _know_ about that? Why hasn't anything been _done_?"

"The Federation handled the Turkana situation very badly. They didn't do anything until it was too late and then they weren't able to evacuate everyone in time, even the people who were in the most danger. To step up now and do something would be to admit a serious mistake on the Federation's part."

"So they won't do anything because they don't want to admit they were wrong?"

"In a nutshell," Jim put in before Tasha could comment. "Have you ever heard of Kodos?"

"Governor of Tarsus IV, ordered half the population to be executed to save the other half," Julian said softly. "So?"

"There's a lot about that that isn't commonly known. Like the fact that Kodos actually usurped power from the Federation-appointed authorities _after_ the famine started. They didn't want it known that the disaster happened under Federation authority. It's also not commonly known that the Federation government asked for help several weeks _before_ the famine seriously begun. A few blighted fields were discovered, but the Council blew off their requests for assistance until it got so bad that they didn't have time to get out there before people began to starve. I suspect they only listened the second time because of some well-placed blackmail."

"Blackmail?"

"Let's just say a certain Captain contacted a friend of his, an Admiral, someone who was strongly principled, and let slip that the first call had been made. This Admiral confronted the Federation Council and threatened to reveal _both_ calls unless the Council took action to help the colonists."

"That Captain wouldn't happen to be sitting in this cell, would he?" Julian asked, even as Tasha was shaking her head, knowing Jim had been a child on the colony when this had happened.

"No, but you're close. It was my father."

"You never told me that," Tasha said softly.

"Well, he didn't ever actually tell _me_. My brother told me a few years later that Dad had been going crazy trying to get Starfleet to rescue people on the colony."

"But if your father wasn't there -" she began.

"I was spending the summer with a family friend. It was supposed to be fun. It was at first."

"You were there?" Julian asked softly. "My God. If anything in history sounded worse than the Bell Riots -"

Julian was cut off by a knock on the wall. He pulled off the panel and Tain crawled out.

"Well, that's done. Now we wait."

**I know some of this is rehash but I wanted to establish a bond between the characters.**

**In addition to _In Purgatory's Shadow/By Inferno's Light_, this episode references the TOS episodes _Space Seed_ and _The Conscience of the King_, the TOS movies _The Wrath of Khan _and _The Search for Spock_, and the DS9 episodes _Past Tense,_ _Doctor Bashir I Presume_ and _Trials and Tribble-ations_, and was written with my personal stuffed, chirping tribble in my lap. Anything outside the canon of those episodes (the new tribble planet, for example) is my personal invention.**

**What did Kirk mean when he said Genesis couldn't have happened the same way without him? Think about who was on the team.  
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**Please review.**


	23. Chapter TwentyThree: Plan of Escape

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty-Three: Plan of Escape**_

It had been three weeks. Three weeks of endless waiting.

By Julian's calculations, the message would have reached the wormhole about nine days ago. He'd figured in another day for them to intercept it and send it to Garak, and two more for him to actually get a ship and make the journey. That still left them all waiting with bated breath.

Tasha wished she could ask Julian to recalculate, but he was serving the tail end of a week in solitary confinement for trying to get medical supplies for a now very sick Enabran Tain. The old Cardassian's heart was failing, and they knew he would die without immediate medical attention, but the Dominion didn't care. Julian had been too pushy and been punished for his trouble.

"There."

Martok's voice made Tasha and Jim jump and turn. Two people stood behind him - a Cardassian and a Klingon in a Starfleet uniform.

"Worf!"

His eyes widened as he took her in, but her gaze had already shifted to the Cardassian. "I should have known you would come."

"You're far too trusting," he said gently.

"Not this time. You came, didn't you?"

Garak didn't reply, and she followed his gaze to the bunk where Tain lay.

"What is wrong with him?" Worf asked.

"It's his heart," Tasha said softly. She could see that her assessment had been dead on. They knew each other well.

"Really. There are many people who'd say he doesn't have one."

"He was convinced that you would come," Martok told him.

"He knew I had no choice. Tain. Tain, I'm here."

The man came back to a greater state of awareness. "My message. It got through?"

"It did."

"Worf, can I have a word with you?" Tasha barely gave the Klingon a chance to answer before she pulled him aside, wanting to grant the two Cardassians a little privacy.

"How long have you been here?"

"About five weeks."

"I was afraid of that."

"Why? What's happened?"

"I don't know exactly. All I know is that about four and a half weeks ago, I was told your engagement had been called off."

"A changeling," she said softly.

"I suspect."

"They're releasing him from isolation." Duval had stepped into the room.

"Good." Martok nodded in satisfaction.

"Who?" Worf asked.

"A friend," Martok explained.

Julian, disheveled and disoriented, was shoved into the room. Tasha caught him before he could fall and got him onto a bunk, covering his eyes with her hand so he could get used to the light slowly after a week in the dark.

"Doctor!"

"Garak?" He started to turn his head, but Tasha caught it and held it still.

"Don't try that just yet, your eyes need to adjust."

"I should have known it wasn't you on the station," the Cardassian said.

"How's that?" It was clear the banter was very familiar between them.

"He was far too suspicious. I thought you'd finally begun to learn."

Julian laughed. "You _should_ have known better."

xxxxxxxxx

"No good?"

"Nothing, Data. I'm sorry."

Data had yet to figure out why Tasha had abruptly called off both the wedding and their relationship the day after she'd returned from the Gamma Quadrant. She hadn't even spoken that much to him since. Geordi and Will had both tried to play intermediary, to no avail. She'd closed herself off from the entire senior staff, even Captain Picard.

"It simply does not make sense. It is as though the woman I knew was replaced by a stranger with her face. Does it seem that way to you, Geordi? Geordi?"

The man was staring at him suddenly. "Oh, my God."

"What?"

"Data, that's it!"

"What?"

"She came back from the _Gamma Quadrant_ acting like a completely different person."

"I do not follow you."

"The _Gamma Quadrant_. Where the _Dominion_ live. The _changelings_."

"You cannot mean -"

"It makes more sense than anything we've come up with so far. And if she is, Kirk may be too. In which case we need to warn Starfleet."

"How do we test your theory?"

"Just leave that to me."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha laid a gentle hand on the shoulder of the man she had come to call a friend. Tain's heart had finally failed a few minutes earlier, and his body was still warm.

Garak had stepped out of the room, probably to endure whatever it was he was feeling in private. They all knew Tain wouldn't be allowed any final dignity, but they could pay their respects.

"I don't know what Cardassians believe," she said softly, "and I don't know if you can hear me right now, but in spite of everything I hated about you, I think you were a decent person in the end."

It was somewhat sharp, not at all the sentimentality typical to a wake, but it was exactly what Tain would have wanted. That brashness had characterized their relationship from the first. He would have been dismayed if she'd let a little thing like his death change that.

xxxxxxxxx

"Now?"

"Now." Data nodded to his friend, indicating that he was ready. Their plan depended entirely on timing and surprise.

Right on cue, Tasha walked into Engineering. Geordi, walking past the door, collided with her and they both went down, tangled together.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped, trying to untangle herself.

"No, no, it's my fault." Under the guise of untangling himself, he carefully took a single strand of her hair in his fingers and broke it, cupping his hand around it as he stood back up.

He felt the hair change in his palm. Glancing down, he could see that it had turned into a blob of orange jelly. Casually, he flashed Data the agreed-upon hand signal.

Tasha was hit by a phaser blast out of nowhere, instantly unconscious. As she dropped to the floor, her body began to lose shape, and quickly she was no more than an orange puddle. Gasps and cries emanated from the engineering staff.

"Data to Lieutenant D'Sora. Security to Engineering immediately."

"On our way. D'Sora out."

xxxxxxxxx

"The transmitter Tain used to contact the station," Worf asked. "Where is it?"

They had assembled a meeting of sorts in their barracks. Tain's plan had left them with nothing but two new people to help them form a plan. Now they needed a way out.

Julian opened up the panel in the wall. "You have to crawl through that hole and kind of slide your way up into the wall."

"It took him over a year to modify the old life-support system into a transmitter." Martok's voice held a hint of awe.

"How did he operate it?" Worf asked.

"He wired the message and the transmission coordinates directly into the system circuitry," Martok admitted, knowing that made things more difficult. "That way all he had to do was connect the transmitter to the power grid and let it run."

"Could the coordinates and the message be changed?" Worf asked.

It was, unsurprisingly, Garak who caught on first. "You're planning to contact the runabout."

Worf nodded. "We could activate the transporter and beam ourselves onto the ship."

"And run like hell," Julian added ruefully.

"Re-encoding the transmitter won't be easy," Garak said slowly. "We'd have to reconfigure the array one circuit at a time. "

"Can you do it?" Julian asked.

"Me?"

"I'm no engineer and neither is anyone else here. You, on the other hand, my dear Mister Garak, are a man of many hidden talents. If you can't do it, nobody can."

"It's nice to feel needed," Garak replied with a hint of a smile.

"All prisoners assemble immediately." Everyone jumped when the speaker crackled to life. "Repeat, all prisoners assemble immediately."

xxxxxxxxx

"I don't know what put you onto it, but we're lucky it did," Picard told the duo.

The changeling had been contained behind a forcefield and Starfleet had been warned about Kirk.

"I'm sorry, Data," he added. He knew what Tasha's fate had most likely been, and knew it would devastate the android.

"At least I know," he said softly. "I know she never stopped loving me."

xxxxxxxxx

"I don't believe this!" Julian looked like he'd blow his top. "I mean, I knew he wasn't perfect by a long shot, but something like this?"

They had recieved the news that Cardassia had joined the Dominion, and thus all Cardassian prisoners were to be freed. All Cardassian prisoners, that was, except Garak, who had apparently run afoul of the new leader of the Cardassian government: Gul Dukat.

"You knew him?" Martok asked.

"From a distance. We on the station have worked with him before. I don't know if I'd have called him a friend, but I'd have expected him to come down on our side over the Dominion."

"He lost much of his power in the scandal last year," Garak pointed out. "By joining Cardassia with the Dominion, he probably thinks he can get some of it back."

"What happened last year?" Tasha asked.

"More like what happened nineteen years ago that came out last year," Garak laughed. "He, like many other Cardassian men, had a Bajoran mistress. And everything that can come with it. Well, one of everything anyway."

"A child," Jim said softly.

"Well, she was kept out of sight and then she just disappeared. The details are rather complicated, but suffice to say she reappeared, and Dukat in a rare moment of compassion decided not to kill her."

"How kind," Tasha said coldly.

Garak looked over at her. "From your perspective, perhaps. But most powerful Cardassian men would have done it without a second thought. Instead, he claimed her. Took her home to Cardassia and lost everything he had as soon as it got out. Come to think, that's kind of why I got stuck here."

"You helped to blow the lid off?" Tasha asked.

"Not exactly." There was a faint laugh from Julian. "Ziyal's been living on the station for awhile, she wasn't suited for the outlaw life her father was leading and it was the best option, the only place she'd be accepted. Well, she'd been raised as a Cardassian, and there was only one other Cardassian on the station -"

He had to stop because Jim suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. "I'm sorry," he said when he could speak again. "I've just been there and done that a few dozen times at least."

"Anyway, power notwithstanding, it just stuns me that Dukat would do something so radical." Julian finally brought the conversation back to where they'd started.

"Then you never really knew him." Garak shared a long look with Tasha.

xxxxxxxxx

She couldn't believe the events of the last week. She looked around the crowded Starfleet runabout, resisting the urge to laugh in pure joy. The rational part of her knew they weren't out of the woods yet, but her emotional side saw the monumental achievement. They were free.

The timing itself was nothing short of miraculous. The device they used to take the panel off the wall had been discovered, and the Jem'Hadar had been stopped from physically dragging Garak out of the wall only by the Breen whose name no one could remember grabbing a gun from one of the guards as he bent to open the panel and shooting one guard just as he too was shot, giving them a chance to take down the others. Mercifully, the transmitter had been nearly finished, and the plan had worked. It turned out, from what Tasha heard, that Worf had literally missed a disruptor blast by a fraction of a second when the transporter beam had caught him. Garak had saved his life when he connected that final circuit.

Garak. That was a massive shock in and of itself. About two days in, they'd discovered that Garak was severely claustrophobic, and had despaired of having to come up with a new plan, but the Cardassian had forced himself to return to the tiny alcove, gaining a new level of admiration from Tasha in the process. As Worf had said, "there is no greater enemy than one's own fears."

Julian had sent an urgent message to the station, informing them of his status, hopefully putting them on to the fact that the Julian Bashir on the station was a changeling before it could carry out its mission. He was in the back now, working on Worf, who'd been badly injured in his final fight with the Jem'Hadar. Tasha was trying to boost the signal so she and Jim could send a message to their own points of origin. Jim, who had been knocked out in the fight with the Jem'Hadar, was only just coming around and was trying to figure out where he was. Martok was in the back with Worf, who he'd taken to like a long-lost brother in spite of the fact that her former second-in-command had been disowned by the Klingon Empire - again - the previous year. Just like when Gowron had given Worf his name back the first time, Tasha could _see_ his confidence and pride reemerging after being harshly cut back as this man who was so respected in the Empire spoke highly of him. Garak was trying to catch his breath without looking like he was trying to catch his breath. Duval sat quietly on one of the runabout's passenger seats, letting the events play out around her.

Solam was dead, shot by one of the guards in cold blood in an attempt to coerce the rest of them to talk. They were, Tasha knew, extremely lucky not to all be dead, but the two deaths their escape had cost weighed heavily on her mind. Not to mention Tain, who hadn't lived to see his plan come to fruition after all; everyone knew that if Tain hadn't sent that message, they never would have had a runabout to signal or anyone who could modify the transmitter once Tain's health had prevented him from working.

She checked the sensor readouts and smiled. "Two hours to the wormhole and no sign of the Dominion. I think we're going to make it."

"Yes." Jim had apparently gotten his bearings. "We're going home."

**Fair warning, I'm not entirely sure what comes next so I can't make any promises as to how long it'll take to write it.**

**I know the bits on the _Enterprise_ were really short, but I wanted to touch on the other side but couldn't come up with that much to write.  
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**This episode is heavily based on the two-parter I've been referencing for the past few chapters, _In Purgatory's Shadow/By Inferno's Light_, and also contains references to the DS9 episodes _Indiscretion _and _The Way of the Warrior_. Jim's reference to "been there, done that" doesn't come from any particular episode, but I do remember that there were instances on the show of him getting into trouble over a woman he shouldn't have been dating in the first place.**

**Please review.**


	24. Chapter TwentyFour: Homecoming

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty-Four: Homecoming**_

Tasha was nearly bowled over by Jadzia Dax, who didn't even seem to notice she was there as she tore into the runabout. She heard what sounded like a fight starting, and hurried into the back to see Jadzia and Worf embracing passionately, and Julian looking a little disheveled.

"What happened?" she asked in an undertone, though she doubted the now-smooching couple would be aware of an explosion five feet away.

"I had to stop Dax from tackling him before she re-broke the ribs I spent half an hour fixing," he said ruefully. "She's stronger than I am, apparently, but I did accomplish my goal."

"You're also underweight." One of the consequences of being put in solitary was no rations, as if the amount provided wasn't small enough, and Julian had spent eighteen of his thirty-seven days in the camp in solitary. Unfortunately, the runabout's power reserves had been drained by the continuous orbit and their battle with the Jem'Hadar and they didn't have enough in the reserves to use the replicator for more than medical supplies and still be prepared for a fight. Everyone, especially Martok and Duval, was dying for a taste of real food, but she could tell Julian was literally starving. The form-fitting uniform he'd arrived at the camp in was more than a little too loose on him.

He shrugged a little, not denying her statement.

"Look, I'm sure there are other doctors on the station."

"Three."

"In that case, I'm taking you down to the replimat for some food."

A look of longing crossed his face. "Do you know how good that sounds? I am _so_ hungry."

"In that case, what are we waiting for?"

"I should shower, change -"

"Julian, we're both a mess. Let's go get something to eat."

"I'd argue more if I didn't want food so badly."

"You know it. Come on."

"Uh-uh." He took her shoulder and pushed her gently behind him. "I'm leading."

"You are?"

"I live on this station, I know where everything is, and I don't want to waste time getting lost." He didn't mean to be sharp with her, but the more they talked about getting a meal, the less he was able to imagine away his desperate hunger. Now he just wanted to eat. He could almost taste the food.

They were on the Promenade in three minutes, and at the replimat in another two. Unfortunately, the station had just stood down from an attack and everyone was mobbing the place at once.

Julian closed his eyes, breathing in the scents in the room, but that only sent a pain through his stomach. He bit his lip, trying not to double over, and felt Tasha's hand on his arm.

"Don't torture yourself."

"It's going to take half an hour to get to the replicators." He tried to keep the despair out of his voice, but he was almost close enough to touch all that wonderful-smelling food and yet it was all off-limits.

"Is there a place we can be served quicker?" She knew he was hungry, and that standing here watching everyone else eat was torment to him.

"I could probably bribe Quark to put us at the head of the line." This was said with a small smile.

She laughed. "Not a Federation man?"

"Ferengi."

Tasha laughed. "Well, in that case..."

Julian had lived on the station for long enough that his instincts were dead-on, and they had food within five minutes. Julian drew in a deep breath of the meal in front of him, as if to savor the aroma, then couldn't wait any longer and picked up his fork and dug in ravenously. He felt the first huge, hot mouthful all the way down to his stomach. It was so good. Across from him, Tasha was eating with just slightly less enthusiasm.

His eyelids were drooping by the time he was done. His hunger hadn't been letting him sleep well for weeks, and now that his stomach was blissfully full his body was longing for rest.

"Come on, Julian." Tasha gave him her hand and helped him to his feet. "Where are your quarters?"

He mumbled a location into her ear, and she led him to the turbolift and to his room. He landed on his couch as his legs gave way.

"Come on," she said again. With no small difficulty, and leaning heavily on her, he managed to get to his feet and walk the last few feet. He collapsed on his bed, fast asleep before his head hit the pillow. She smiled. He was so much a baby brother, young and sweet and naive and needing someone a little older and more experienced to lead him around sometimes.

xxxxxxxxx

"Well, look what the cat dragged in."

Odo, standing behind his commanding officer, looked at Tasha as though she might be offended, but she laughed and hugged her old friend. "It's good to see you too. How've you been?"

"I think I'm going to go gray before my time running this station," he said only half joking.

"Is there a formal declaration of war?"

"Not yet, but I doubt that means anything. If they want to attack, formalities won't mean anything. By the way, have you seen my CMO anywhere? He's nowhere I can find him, and his communicator isn't up-to-date so I can't contact him or use the computer to locate him."

"At the moment, he's unconscious. Almost fell asleep on his feet."

"In that case, I'll talk to him later. How is he?"

"Besides tired?"

Ben laughed lightly. "Exactly."

"He could stand to gain a few pounds. He lost some weight in the camp."

"O'Brien was shocked. They spend a lot of time together off-duty, and he never suspected a thing."

Tasha sighed, lowering her head. He noticed. "What is it?"

"I'm wondering if anyone noticed I was gone. Oh, they'll know by now, I sent them a message telling them where I was - and, I suppose, where I wasn't. But it's been six weeks. I know she wrecked my personal life, broke my engagement. What could she have done on the professional side? I have connections. I'm a tactical officer trusted by several Admirals in Starfleet Command. What could a Changeling do with that power?"

"Whatever it is, it won't be completed," Odo said in his gravelly voice. "There haven't been any strange orders from Starfleet Security or anything else going on in there."

"Well, that's good news anyway."

"The _Enterprise_ is six hours out. You can assess the damage then." Benjamin picked up the conversation again. "Until that point, I might suggest you take an example from Julian. Borrow some guest quarters."

"Just what is it you're implying?" she asked teasingly.

"That you look terrible. Now go to sleep."

"Yes _sir_!" She mock-saluted him.

xxxxxxxxx

A door chime woke Tasha out of her sleep. "Oh, go away," she mumbled.

It chimed again, more insistently. "All _right_, all _right. _I'm coming."

She remembered she had fallen asleep naked, having no desire to put her filthy uniform back on after the longest shower of her life. She hurriedly replicated a dressing gown and answered the door.

Silence.

Data stood in her doorway, just staring at her. On impulse, she took a step forward, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

His hands wrapped around her back and he leaned into her, deepening the kiss. They were still standing in the doorway, but in that moment the whole station could have been watching for all they cared.

Tasha was breathless when they broke apart. "God, I've missed you," she gasped when she could speak again, pulling him inside the door.

"And I have missed you."

"Oh, come on. How long have you known I was missing?"

"Two weeks."

"_What_?"

"We discovered two weeks ago that you had been replaced. But really, I have had cause to miss you for nearly the entire time you were gone. Your replacement was not an adequate substitute."

She wished she had a mirror, because whatever it was he saw on her face, it caused him to burst out laughing. "That was not what I meant. I was never intimate with her."

"Data, you don't have to lie," she said softly, stepping back from him. "It doesn't count as cheating if you thought it was me."

"No lie," he said, matching her tone. "She would not - the day she returned she broke the engagement, and then she would hardly speak to me. I am uncertain why. Perhaps she was unable to replicate your actions in certain areas."

"Maybe. Or maybe she couldn't fake my feelings for you. Maybe she couldn't pretend convincingly to love you as much as I do." She kissed him again. "Do you know if the Captain's expecting me?"

"He said to tell you to 'check in when you are ready'."

"Never could fool him, could we?"

"I never could. It appears you put your robe on rather quickly."

"Yeah, so?"

"It is sloppy. Perhaps it should be removed."

"Yeah." Her eyes met his. "It should."

xxxxxxxxx

"So tell me something, Captain."

After finishing her 'activities' with Data, she had taken a quick shower and replicated the new uniform, which was still strange to her, even though they'd been implemented a month ago. It had taken her an additional twenty minutes to get to the bridge because she was stopped every ten feet by someone welcoming her home. She had finally made it to the Captain's ready room, only to be on the receiving end of one of the greatest displays of emotion she had ever seen from the reserved man. He was now sitting, however, with her on the other side of his desk.

"What is it?"

"How did you know it wasn't me?"

"Data didn't tell you?"

She blushed. "We, ah, didn't get around to it."

If he noticed her discomfort, he didn't let on. "I think it was Geordi that figured it out. Everyone knew you weren't acting like yourself. He realized it had started about the same time you came back from the Gamma Quadrant and was able to put the pieces together."

"Remind me to thank him."

"I will." He smiled warmly. "It's good to have you back."

**I know this is a little short but I had to put some kind of end on this thread of the story before I took it in a new direction.**

**Please review. I write for its own sake, but I would like to know people are reading and enjoying this.**


	25. Chapter TwentyFive: Facing the Facts

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty-Five: Facing the Facts**_

"How am I doing, Doc?" Tom asked _Voyager_'s EMH.

He played it off, but he knew he'd been in danger. In an attempt to collect plasma from a subspace phenomenon, he had managed to get caught up in said phenomenon and dragged into a strange inter-fold layer between space and subspace. Getting out had gotten him pretty banged up. It was also the most fun he'd had in a long time.

"Your hard head has protected you again, Lieutenant," the doctor said in his usual brusque fashion. "It was only a mild concussion."

"It was worth it, though," Tom laughed, exhilaration taking over now that he knew he was okay. "That was one wild ride."

"I'm sure it was. And it's a wonder you're not dead."

Tom almost rolled his eyes. Dealing with the Doctor's lectures on danger was one of the risks of doing something fun on _Voyager_. He knew what was coming next. _Do you always have to take the most dangerous route to an end?_

"People like you who court danger should be thrown into the brig."

Now _that_ was unexpected. "Doc," he began, concerned, but the man rolled right over him.

"You never think of the consequences of your actions, the effect they might have on others. Oh no, live for the moment, take risks you shouldn't-" he broke off suddenly, realizing Tom was staring at him. "I'm sorry."

Forget _that_. It looked like there might be a serious problem, and for all Tom's brash exterior he wouldn't make a friend go through a hard time alone. "Are you all right?"

"It's my family."

Tom figured he should have known. He knew the Doctor had created a family on the holodeck, and according to B'Elanna she had added some 'random elements' to the program that the man might not have been prepared for.

"My daughter Belle had an accident. She's a child who tends to take risks."

A small smile played on Tom's lips at the thought of the doctor being an overprotective father, but it was instantly erased by his next words. "She's going to die."

For the second time in his life, he found himself facing a grieving parent with no idea what to say. He couldn't hold this man like he had held Tasha, the only good he'd been able to do for her. "I'm so sorry," were the words through his lips, but it felt so inadequate

"I'll be all right," the Doctor said with a sudden almost cheerful nonchalance. "I shut down the program. I'm not going back."

Tom frowned. "Maybe you should think about that, Doc."

The facade faded away almost instantly. The man's voice was a whisper, choked with tears he wouldn't shed in front of Tom. "I couldn't begin to face it. It was too difficult."

"I guess all of us would avoid that kind of pain if we could, but most people don't have that choice."

"Well fortunately I do." The Doctor seemed unperturbed by Tom's point.

Tom didn't have a way to argue with that. He remembered Tasha's tears soaking through his coat. She certainly wouldn't have chosen that pain if she'd had the choice - would she?

_"Do you ever wish it had never happened? That you'd never been pregnant or had your daughter?"_

_"In a moment, sure. But seriously? No. I loved Eva, and as hard as it is for me to live without her, I can't imagine what it would be like to never have had her."_

"Is it so fortunate?" he asked, her words still running through his mind. "You created that program so you could experience what it's like to have a family. The good times and the bad. You can't have one without the other."

"I fail to see why not."

"Well, think about what's happened to us here on Voyager. Everyone left people behind, and everyone suffered a loss, but look how it's brought us all closer together. We found support here, and friendship, and we've become a family in part because of the pain we shared."

He knew he was starting to get through. But there was more he had to say, more that came to mind even as he spoke. He remembered how much Tasha had been hurting. She had tucked the pain away and carried it for years, trying not to let it hurt her even as it burned beneath the surface, and it had hurt all the more when it had finally been triggered. He couldn't let that happen again, not to his friend.

"If you turn your back on this program you'll always be stuck at this point," he continued softly. "You'll never have the chance to say goodbye to your daughter, or to be there for your wife and son when they need you, and you'll be cheating yourself of the chance to have their love and support. In the long run you'll miss the whole point of what it means to have a family."

Tears welled up behind his eyes and he forced them back as he turned and left Sickbay. Only when he was in his quarters did he allow himself to shed a few tears.

_Tasha - dear Tasha - she never had that choice. She had to go through losing her child alone. She didn't have a family to support her through that awful time. She didn't have any shoulders to lean on._

Even though Tasha was very much like another _older_ sister, he'd always been protective of her. He knew how much she'd seen and been through, and how hard it was sometimes for her just to handle a normal life with such an abnormal, horrible past always in the back of her mind. He knew that she lived every day with the pain of everything she'd gone through, but especially of being a mother without her child, and would for the rest of her life.

_And so will the Doc. But we can help him. His family isn't just that program._

"Paris to Janeway."

"_Janeway here. How are you, Lieutenant?_"

"I'm fine. Listen, can you call a senior staff meeting? Everyone but the Doctor."

A pause. Then her voice came through the line. "_What?_"

"I'll explain everything at the meeting. I promise. Please, just trust me. It's important."

He didn't use that tone very often, and he knew she would know to take it seriously. "_All right. Briefing room, fifteen minutes._"

xxxxxxxxx

"Captain," Harry Kim asked, "what's this meeting about?"

"I wish I knew," she said ruefully. "Tom?"

"I have to tell you all something," he said softly. "It's about the Doctor."

"What about him?" B'Elanna Torres asked. "Is something wrong with his program?"

"Not exactly. You all know about his family?"

A chorus of nods and murmurs of affirmation followed. The Doctor had told most of the senior staff himself, and those he hadn't had been told by someone else. It was _impossible_ to keep a secret on a ship _Voyager_'s size.

"His daughter had an accident. I don't know the details but -" Tom swallowed back the lump in his throat. "She died about ten minutes ago." He had checked the holodeck files for her condition.

The room erupted in shocked exclamations. Kes, the young Delta Quadrant native woman who had become the Doctor's medical assistant, began to cry.

"He said he'd finished the program," she choked out. "I didn't realize anything was wrong."

"It's all right." Tom placed a comforting hand on Kes' shoulder. "I only knew something was off because he snapped at me over nothing. More than usual."

"Is there anything we can do for him?" Neelix asked. He took his self-appointed job as Morale Officer very seriously.

"On Earth, it's traditional for friends to visit a grieving family with food," Janeway suggested. "Obviously it would have to be holographic food, but it might be nice for us to make that gesture."

"Agreed," Tom said softly. "Nothing fancy, and no trying to cheer anyone up." This was said while looking at Neelix out of the corner of his eye. The small man always meant well, but sometimes wasn't entirely sure where the lines should be drawn. "Just a gesture of friendship and an offer of condolences."

Everyone nodded and murmured agreement.

"B'Elanna, check the holodeck logs.," the Captain ordered. "Where's the Doctor now?"

She consulted a screen. "You mean in his holodeck world? Still in the hospital."

"Good. Let's go."

xxxxxxxxx

The Doctor - Kenneth, they called him in this world - guided his wife out of the hovercar. She seemed almost delirious, barely aware of where she was. Not that he was doing so much better. He had to force himself to stay strong for Jeffery and Charlene, but that didn't make it easy.

He entered the front door and stopped dead. Eight people were sitting in his living room.

"What -?"

Janeway stood and approached him. "We're here for you," she said simply, laying a hand on his shoulder. "We want you to know that."

Something hit him in the chest. He looked down and saw Kes wrapped around him. "Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry."

Then he was swarmed by the others, gentle pats on his back and grips on his hands, and they all told him how sorry they were. He felt emotion welling up in him, and for the second time in as many hours he began to cry.

Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and he was drawn into an embrace. He didn't know who it was and barely cared. He just cried, appreciating having someone to lean on instead of being the person his wife and son were leaning on.

"Feel better?" said a soft voice as his sobs eased.

"Mr. Paris!" He started to pull away, but Tom's arm didn't leave his shoulders.

"Don't worry about it," he said softly. "I get it."

"You 'get' what, exactly?"

"That you need a shoulder to cry on." He began to rub gentle circles on his friend's back. "That you're hurting."

"Unless your medical history is incomplete, you've never been through anything like this. How could you _know_?"

"Not me," he replied, unfazed. "I _don't_ know how you feel, and I'd never pretend to. But I _do_ know you're in pain, and I know you need support." He drew a deep breath before deciding to put it all out there. "My cousin. She went through the same thing."

For the first time, he had the Doctor's attention. "Really?"

"Yes. And it hurt her as much as it's hurting you now. And that's how I know." He embraced the holographic man again. "I'm here for you, Doc."

xxxxxxxxx

"Hey."

"What can I do for you, Mr. Paris?"

"That was my question for you."

The Doctor had been given two days of bereavement leave to spend with his family. On his first day back at work, he'd found Tom standing in his sickbay.

"The last two days were for me to get my life back in order. Now -"

"Doc, please. This isn't just going to go away."

"What do you want from me?"

"_From_ you? Nothing. I just want you to understand that if you need anything, anything at all just give me a call."

"I never did ask. Was it you who organized everyone to bring food?"

"Yeah," he admitted softly. "I didn't want you going through that alone." He gave one of his devil-may-care grins. "I gotta get to the bridge."

"Mr. Paris?"

The pilot stopped and turned. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

**I alluded to this chapter _way_ back in _Perfectly Logical_. It's almost entirely based on the episode _Real Life_.**

**Please review.**


	26. Chapter TwentySix: Building Tension

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty-Six: Building Tension  
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"Natasha, there's something I need to discuss with you."

"Yeah, sure."

"Well, Starfleet wants us back to Earth for a maintenance upgrade sometime within the next few months. Apparently, they've come up with some modification or other designed to help us against the Dominion."

"Okay. What do you need me for?"

"Well, I thought, for security reasons of course, that I should consult with you on exactly when we want to get this done."

"Well, okay." She didn't remember him ever consulting her on such a thing before, but the Dominion War had caused everyone to change their plans. "Did you have anything in mind?"

"Well, I did have a predetermined schedule in mind. Let's see, today's what?"

Tasha began to rattle off the stardate but he stopped her. "No, I mean on the Earth calender. It's, ah, January 25th, if I recall correctly."

"So? Excuse me, sir, but I don't see how that's relevant."

"Well, it'll be another month at least before they're ready to put the modifications into effect," he continued as though he hadn't heard her, "I was thinking that we should get it done no later than six or seven weeks after the window opens. Say, arriving at Utopia Planitia on April twelfth? However, the procedure will take three weeks. The personnel would all have to find a way to spend a few weeks off." At this, he finally let his professional mask drop and a smile show through. "What do you think? Would that schedule be satisfactory to the needs of the security staff?"

Tasha was grinning now too, and she hugged him right in the middle of the hallway. "Thank you, Captain. Thank you so much."

"My pleasure."

xxxxxxxxx

"If Starfleet had etiquette officers, they'd be furious," Geordi muttered under his breath, trying unsuccessfully to break the tension. Only Beverly, who had been attending to a minor medical problem in sickbay, was in uniform. Deanna was in her off-duty clothes. Will was short his shirt. Geordi was in his pajamas with a robe hastily thrown over them. Tasha and Data had been in the middle of a rather private activity and were completely naked under their respective robes. It _would_ have been humorous had the reason for the situation not been so serious. Picard had called an immediate, emergency senior staff meeting.

Picard was in his own sleepwear and robe when he stepped in. His face was even grimmer than those of the others. Immediately, every eye in the room was on him. The same question was on all their minds, but no one wanted to say it.

It was Will who finally broke the silence. "Captain, what's going on?"

He glanced around the room, looking at every member of his senior staff, taking in their somber expressions. "I have major news, and I'm afraid it's not good. The Federation has lost Deep Space Nine."

The entire room erupted in shocked gasps and exclamations. Tasha realized suddenly that she was speaking too, though she didn't have a clue which of the many words were hers.

"All right, all right!" the Captain shouted over the din and they all fell silent.

"First of all, the Federation personnel were able to evacuate. Mass casualties were prevented. Most of the civilian population had already been evacuated to Bajor or other Federation posts, so the only people on the station were combatants and a few Bajoran and non-aligned civilians."

"Quark," said Will with a hint of a smile.

Picard continued as if his First Officer hadn't spoken. "Because the Dominion recently signed a nonaggression pact with Bajor, Bajoran personnel will be allowed to remain. The Federation was also able to mine the entrance to the wormhole, cutting the Dominion off from most of their reinforcements."

"Well that's something," Tasha said grimly.

"Natasha, this next is especially for you. Retaking the station has just become a tactical priority."

"Right." Most captains would have just provided that information so the tactical officer could be prepared for whatever came their way, but Tasha was not most tactical officers. She knew he expected her to come up with some sort of plan.

xxxxxxxxx

"Lieutenant Commander Yar?"

Tasha snapped to attention when she heard Admiral Ross' voice. It had been now three weeks since they'd lost the station, and the _Enterprise_ had joined the fleet at Starbase 375 to come up with a way to get it back. Tasha had been personally asked to assist in coming with a plan, but so far they couldn't come up with anything that was likely to work.

"Yes sir?"

"There's someone here who insists on speaking with you."

"With me? What do they want? Who is it?"

"As to the former, our guest refused to share his business with anyone but you. As to the latter, you had better see this for yourself."

Tasha began to follow him down the hall. He stopped at a door.

"Whatever he wants, try to handle this as delicately as possible. It's important to me that we stay on this man's good side."

"If you say so." She was now thoroughly confused.

"Good luck." Then he pressed the button to open the door.

She stepped in alone. A man stood in the room with his back to her. Her first thought was that he was Vulcan, but his clothing told otherwise. _Romulan._ What was a Romulan doing on a Federation Starbase, and what did he want with her?

He turned slowly, taking in. "So," he said finally, "it is true."

She dug deep in her memory for something to identify this man's rank. _General_.

"The first time I heard it, I was ready to write it off as a rumor or an error. But so many mentions of a name couldn't all be wrong."

"Sir?"

"Tasha Yar." It wasn't really a question. "Am I to take it you don't know who I am?"

"You could say that."

"Well, I never was one for temporal mechanics, I suppose."

It was a throwaway comment, but it resonated with Tasha, and suddenly it all clicked. "You're Sela's father."

He nodded serenely. "As you might have guessed, hearing your name after all these years was something of a shock. Don't look so surprised," he added, "you're one of the biggest up-and-coming tactical officers in the Federation. Romulan Intelligence would be stupid indeed if they didn't have your name. They didn't make the connection, but then they didn't live with you for five years."

She flinched at that reminder, and he looked at her sadly. "It's not what you think. I was attracted to her, I made the bargain with her, yes, but I never forced her to do anything. I never raped her."

"Manipulation is a kind of force too." Ross' warning was well out the window.

"I think you misunderstand. I asked her to live with me because I thought I could convince her to warm to me. And she did. She began to see me as more than just a Romulan. When she gave herself to me, it was of her own free will. Everyone around us thought she was a concubine, a slave, but I treated her as I would have treated any Romulan woman."

"You had her executed."

"I had nothing to do with that. It was a plan we made together. I knew my Sela would never be fully accepted on Romulus. Tasha and I agreed that she would take Sela and slip back to the Federation. We knew the Federation would accept her more readily than my own government. I would tell everyone that she had escaped and kidnapped our daughter. You probably have no way of knowing this, given what little I know about your interactions with my daughter, but Sela loved her mother, I thought it would work. I didn't count on her devotion to me," he added sadly. "If I could do it over, I would warn Sela, tell her I wanted her to go with her mother. When Sela screamed, the guards caught her and Tasha trying to flee, and it was out of my hands. I begged the courts to spare her life, to let me 'deal with her' - I would have found a way to smuggle her back to the Federation - but they wanted to make an example of her, and nothing I said made any difference."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Why would I have taken all the risks involved in getting out here if I was lying?"

"True," she admitted, and he smiled.

"That's what I liked about you. It wasn't about physical attractiveness. I could see that I'd met a person who was more than just a Starfleet officer."

"Let's say I believe you. That doesn't tell me what you're doing here."

"Well, let's just say I don't agree with my government's stance on the war. Those politicians are blind if they really think the Dominion will leave the Romulan Empire alone indefinitely. They want to control the Alpha Quadrant, and they will stop at nothing short of utter defeat. They leave the Romulan Empire be for now because they hope we will imitate Cardassia and join the Dominion. But I see what they refuse to; no alliance with the Dominion will allow us to be anything other that subservient. I will not see my homeland overcome by force. And I believe it was you who said that manipulation is also a type of force."

She couldn't help a smile at that. "Yes, I guess I did." She grew serious again. "But you haven't answered my question. What is it you want from me?"

"I want a chance to defend my homeland in the most effective way I can - by engaging the Dominion in battles we can win, not the suicide missions we would be undertaking if we tried to face them with our numbers. In return, I offer you my own fleet, such as it is. In addition, I have powerful friends who agree with my position."

"On one condition."

"What is that?"

"That we have a clear understanding. This is a business partnership. Maybe, in time, we can become friends. But I am not and will never be the woman who you took to your bed. In four months, I will be married. I love him, and that's final."

"Tasha, Tasha." He shook his head. "I didn't come here expecting to pick up with you where I left off."

"In that case, why insist on speaking to me, of all people? I'm not even a full commander."

"You're well-respected in the Federation."

"And you're avoiding the question."

"Well - two reasons, really. First of all, I wasn't sure at all how people would react to me. But, though I don't know _everything_ about you in this timeline, I highly doubted you were a completely different person than the woman I knew, someone who saw people as people, not enemies just because of the race they belonged to. I wanted to talk to someone who would listen to me.

"And the other?"

"Well, at first I wasn't sure whether it was worth it to throw in my lot with the Federation. But as soon as I started hearing a certain name coming up more and more, I knew which side was the winning one." He stood. "Discuss my offer with your superiors. I will give you a secure frequency on which to contact me."

"General - may I ask a personal question?"

"Of course."

"What in the galaxy is your name?"

He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing all over the small room. "I am General Makar."

"General Makar." She tried the name in her mouth as if testing it out. "Now what's that frequency?"

xxxxxxxxx

"How much help are we talking about?" Ross asked.

"The General himself has a fleet of sixty. In addition, he has friends with notable complements of their own who will support us. All in all, he says we can expect something in the neighborhood of two hundred."

"Two hundred ships," he repeated. "However did you do it?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Admiral, I hate to rain on your parade, as they say, but we still need a plan."

"With the Romulans, if we pull together everyone we can we might have a chance to punch through."

But Tasha was already shaking her head. "I don't like it. Too many things could go wrong. If they call for reinforcements, if something happens we're not anticipating, that could become a massacre. We need strategy, not power."

"What did you have in mind?"

"I - ah, I'll get back to you."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha paced slowly. Nothing made sense. She hated the idea of trying to blast through the Dominion, but she couldn't come up with a better one. The idea of a diversion had been tossed out there during a planning session but dismissed just as quickly. It was the oldest trick in the book. They couldn't possibly hope the Dominion wouldn't anticipate it.

"We beat the Borg," she mumbled to herself. "How is it we can't figure out how to beat the Dominion?"

She sat heavily, thinking aloud. "We didn't beat the Borg with numbers either. We tried that and they decimated us. We beat them with strategy. What strategy? We took back the Captain. Right. How did we do that?"

Suddenly, she heard Will's voice in her head, saying words he'd said all those years ago, as clearly as if he were standing right in front of her.

"_I'm aware of that, Commander. In fact, I'm counting on it._"

She sat up straight suddenly. "That's it!"

xxxxxxxxx

All eyes were on Tasha now. She had told them she had a plan. Now she had to explain what it was.

"Okay," she began. "Captain Sisko, neglecting for the moment the Dominion fleet, how many ships would it take to engage _just_ Deep Space Nine with a high probability of success?"

He frowned thoughtfully. "Well, obviously that varies depending on armament and firepower, but assuming we mean a Federation-Klingon force, I'd say you could do it with less than ten, and probably as few as six if they're good ships and the attack is well-coordinated. But we _can't_ just ignore the fleet."

"I know that. Here's what I propose." She pulled up a map of the area. "We mass everything we can safely spare, including whatever support we get from the Klingons and the Romulans. We engage the Dominion fleet here," she indicated a spot on the map, "and hit them with everything we can. Once the battle is fully underway, a small strike team, about twenty-five ships, will attempt to slip through at this point."

"We've been through this," one Commander said exasperatedly. "That's the oldest trick in the book. They'll see right through it."

"I'm counting on that," Tasha replied. "They'll send ships to intercept the strike team, sure they figured out what we're up to and stopped us cold. Now, if I've analyzed Dominion battle strategy correctly, when they move to engage here and here," she indicated the spots she'd already pointed out, "they'll have to draw from other areas, and will leave this area here without solid protection. Once that happens, a second strike team, no more than six or seven will run the line at warp, drop out of warp here," she indicated a point only a few hundred meters from their objective, "and engage the station."

Silence.

Ross spoke first. "You know, it's so crazy it just might work."

Ben was nodding too. "It makes sense."

Ross gave a very small smile. "Commander, what will be the technical and personnel requirements?"

"All right, for purposes of this mission, Beta team is the actual strike force, Alpha team is the decoy strike force, and Main Fleet is what it sounds like. All ships in Main Fleet will have normal battle complements and armament. Alpha Team -" she swallowed hard. This was the part of the plan she had the most trouble with. "Minimal possible crew, one or two to a ship if we can manage to wage something of an effective battle with those numbers, and volunteers only if at all possible. It's likely that most or all of that team will be completely obliterated." She let that sink into her own mind and theirs. It was the first time she'd said it out loud. Gathering her thoughts, she went on. "We need a way to fool Dominion sensors into thinking those ships are fully manned, or they'll know something's up."

"Wait a second," someone interrupted. "You mean knowingly send people to their deaths?"

"It's not an easy choice for me either," she said softly, "but it makes the most sense, from a personal standpoint as well as a tactical one. A direct assault to punch through the line would cost far more lives than this stealth. It would be easier on our consciences, maybe, not to have to order people into near-certain death, but in the long run it would mean more lives lost. And who knows how many lives will be lost if we don't take back the station."

No one responded. They all saw the truth of her statement.

She swallowed hard and resumed. "Beta Team needs normal battle compliment plus extra combatants in case we have to board the station. Personnel trained in ground and/or hand-to-hand combat would be ideal. Also, we're going to have to bend some rules of thumb here. Specifically, to put it bluntly, if Beta Team can't make course corrections at warp, we're in big trouble. We may not know exactly where the Dominion ships will be until a few seconds in advance. The ships will need modifications to minimize stress damage from warp-speed maneuvers."

"Understood." Ross was somewhat grim now. "We'll keep everyone posted. Dismissed!"

**The battle scene is giving me some trouble, so I decided to make that a new chapter and just get this out.**

**The opening scene doesn't quite fit, but I had to give a reason why pretty much the whole _Enterprise_ crew would be at the wedding, and it does convey a nice "calm before the storm" sense.**

**The Romulan General stuff was entirely my idea. We don't really know anything about him from the TV show, but I kind of wanted to bring him and that alternate timeline in and to do that well I had to come up with a way he could have been a decent guy.  
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**Any M*A*S*H fans, my tenth (!) story on this site is now available. It's a 3000 word oneshot called _Saying Goodbye_. You can find it on my page.**

**Please review.**


	27. Chapter TwentySeven: Retakingthe Station

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Retaking the Station**_

Her eyes never left the viewscreen.

This was it. This was The Day. Nearly two months in the making, ever since they'd lost the station. Ten days of intense planning.

The _Enterprise_ was one of seven ships on the plan's key strike force. Joining them were the _Defiant_, Jim Kirk's _Fearless_, General Makar's flagship and one other Romulan Warbird, and two Klingon Birds-of-Pray.

Five out of the seven ships would be making the short journey to the station under cloak. The _Fearless_ and the _Enterprise_ weren't lucky enough to have that particular technology installed and would have to rely on stealth.

Tasha had gotten the sense that Jim was actually somewhat excited for this, a mission to rival those of his own glory days. Tasha was anything but. She knew what it was she would have to do today.

They had discussed trying to operate the ships on Alpha Team remotely, but there were too many variables in a battle. It wasn't going to work. The ships _had_ to be manned if they were going to pull this off and make it look real. Even at minimal complement, the twenty-eight ships carried a total of seventy-four people. Seventeen of the ships were Federation, many of them older models closer to decommissioning or in less-than-perfect repair. It made sense from a long-term tactical perspective. If you know the ships will be destroyed, you pick the ships you least mind losing. The eleven Klingon warships were much the same.

But that wasn't what bothered Tasha. Yes, people grew attached to ships, but at the end of the day they weren't alive. They didn't have consciousnesses. The people on them did.

Everyone on every ship on the team was a volunteer, a small mercy. As horrible as the mission was, Starfleet hadn't had that much trouble finding people willing to walk into certain death for the cause. The Klingons had had even less trouble finding volunteers - for a Klingon, a death in battle was an honor. Many of the volunteers were older, warriors who didn't have long before age would have forced them to lay down their weapons. Each and every one was eager to go down fighting and not fade slowly away. She reminded herself of these things but it didn't make any easier.

Tasha would be coordinating the attack in general, as well as the engagement with the station, from the bridge of the _Enterprise_. Ross would be handling the major battle, and an old Klingon warrior, a friend of Jadzia's from her life as Curzon, would be leading the decoy strike. Ross had offered to give The Order, but Tasha had refused to shift responsibility off herself so easily. It had been her idea, now she had to see it through.

"_Ross to Yar_."

"Yar here."

"_All ships are fully manned and ready to proceed._"

"Acknowledged, Admiral." She opened a fleet-wide channel. "Attention all personnel. We are ready to proceed. Main Fleet, stand by."

Ross' voice came through the line. "_Main Fleet standing by._"

"Good luck," she said softly. "Main Fleet, move out."

"_Main Fleet moving out._"

"The main fleet has gone to warp," Data reported.

"Alpha Team, stand by."

"_Alpha Team standing by_."

"Opening a channel to the main fleet."

Ross' voice came through the silence not five minutes later. "All ships, prepare to drop out of warp."

"Data, get me a visual on the battle site."

"On viewscreen."

Even as the image popped up, the first Federation and Klingon ships began to appear. Ross began firing off commands and the fleet went to work, trying to draw as much fire as possible.

The Dominion were responding, engaging readily. Tasha opened a new channel and swallowed hard.

"Alpha Team, move out."

"_Alpha Team moving out_." The old Klingon's voice was laced with excitement. "_Today is a good day to die._"

Tasha flinched inwardly, knowing how accurate his statement was likely to be, but she remained outwardly calm, eyes fixed on the battle on the viewscreen.

Right on cue, Alpha Team dropped out of warp, hurtling at just barely sublight speed towards the prearranged point in the line. Just as Tasha had predicted, the Dominion had been waiting for this trick and a close to fifty ships pulled out of the main battle to go after them.

"Beta Team, stand by."

"_Defiant _standing by."

"_Fearless_ standing by."

The captains of the Romulan and Klingon ships confirmed as well. Tasha acknowledged but her eyes never left the viewscreen. The Alpha Team had split into a number of small groups, ostensibly to try and increase the chances some of them would get through but really just to make the Dominion have to work chasing them.

Even as she watched, the team took its first hit. One Federation _Miranda_-class cruiser took heavy fire, and several decks exploded. The ship remained intact, and Tasha knew no one had been on that deck, but the ship had been critically weakened, if she knew anything about mechanics, not to mention it meant the Dominion had cut through their shields. That ship wasn't going to make it - if any of them did.

"Let's make it count for something," she said softly. "Data, get me a visual on Beta Team target point."

As she had suspected, the area was all but clear, all their station-area personnel busy with the other two teams. "All right, this is it. Beta Team, move out!"

Instantly, five of the ships around them shimmered and disappeared. The ships shot silently into warp.

"Data, keep an eye on that opening," she reminded him unnecessarily. Because of the speed course corrections would have to come at, they had linked Data's console in with the helms of all seven ships. He would calculate and input the corrections, and then the pilots would have only to press a button to get into the clear space.

She felt the ship shudder a little, resisting their unorthodox rejection of traditional wisdom regarding warp steering, but Data gave her a brief thumbs-up, indicating that the modifications he and Geordi along with a team of engineers from the base had so meticulously installed had held up, before turning back to his console."

"We've cleared the Dominion line," he announced.

Tasha hurriedly opened a channel. "All present and accounted for?"

The other six ships sounded off rapidly.

"Prepare to drop out of warp and engage the station." She glanced at her countdown. "Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one - _now_!"

As the _Enterprise_ braked out of warp, Tasha was aware of the other ships falling into formation, all visible now.

"Engage," she shouted. "Yar to Admiral Ross."

"Ross here!"

"We're going in. Try to keep the fleet engaged so they can't reinforce the station."

"Acknowledged." She cut that channel, opening a com-link with the rest of her team. All at once, there was a massive explosion.

Sisko's voice came through first. "_The mines!_"

"What?"

"_The mines are gone, they must have disabled them. That means the Dominion can get reinforcements through the wormhole!_"

"Damn it!" That was _not_ something they had accounted for. Then she realized the Defiant was breaking from the team, heading straight for the wormhole.

"What are you doing?"

"_Trust me! I've got a plan! Just stay with the station._"

He was through the mouth of the wormhole before she had a chance to protest. "All right, we're going to have to work without them. Open fire."

As one, the team dove in, phasers firing, trying to aim for the weak points Sisko had told them about while avoiding the station's own weapons, weapons which, somewhat ironically, the Federation had installed to fight the Dominion. Tasha tried not to think about whether or not being without the _Defiant _in the battle would make all the difference.

All of a sudden, the weapons went dead. A series of shocked exclamations flooded the comm line.

It was Tasha who figured it out first. "Idiots!" she cried almost gleefully. "They let the same personnel who served with Sisko and the others stay on the station."

"_Sabotage, you think?_" Kirk asked.

"I'm sure of it! Instruct boarding parties to prepare for transport the second the shields come down!"

"_But what about -?_"Kirk began, but he abruptly cut himself off as the _Defiant _came streaking back _out_ of the wormhole.

Sisko's voice filled the comm line seconds later. "_Good news. No reinforcements on the way._"

"The Dominion didn't call for reinforcements?" she repeated.

_"Oh, they did. But the reinforcements have been, ah, detained. I'll explain once we're all on _our_ station._"

"Then let's do it! All ships, concentrate your fire and try to collapse their shields. As soon as the shields are down, start transporting boarding parties to the prearranged locations."

The acknowledgments were cheerful.

Tasha opened another channel to the main fleet. "Yar to Ross. The station's weapons have been rendered inoperative. We're preparing to board."

"_Well done, Commander. We'll come join you as soon as we can._"

"_All ships_." That was Sisko again. "_I'm sending you coordinates. Concentrate your fire on these points and we should be able to breach their shields_."

"Acknowledged. Target coordinates and fire."

Sisko's knowledge of the station was as reliable as Tasha had known it would be. The shields buckled under their concentrated fire, then completely deactivated when he managed to get a torpedo in the generator.

"All right!" Tasha opened a channel to all of the cargo bays where the boarding parties were waiting. "Remember your orders. Take prisoners if you can, don't shoot anyone unless there's actual danger if you don't, try to stun or wound instead of kill, and watch out for allies, we don't want to shoot our own. All ships, begin transporting boarding parties."

xxxxxxxxx

She almost tripped over the pair before she saw them.

The man looked somewhat familiar, but Tasha couldn't place him immediately. He was holding a woman in his arms and sobbing, mumbling incoherently.

He was Cardassian, but he didn't appear to be armed or even capable of putting up a fight. He looked up at the Federation soldiers standing over him, but his eyes locked on her.

"Come to gloat?" he said bitterly. "Well, gloat away. There's nothing anyone can do to me anymore."

A shock of recognition hit her and she pulled back. She knew it was irrational to be frightened of this broken man, but she couldn't help it. She despised this man and she was deathly afraid. He had taken so much from her, hurt her so badly while she was at his mercy. She couldn't feel pity for him.

Her eyes fell on the woman in his arms, and it was then that she noticed that the woman lay unnaturally still and had a hole in her chest. She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to take control.

"Take this man into custody," she snapped. As Jenna and the others rushed to obey her, Tasha pulled the body from his arms. The woman had been shot through the chest. Her body was still warm.

"Yar to _Enterprise_, medical emergency. Transport two directly to sickbay and advise Doctor Crusher to prepare for a Code White resuscitation."

"Enterprise _to Yar. Did you say Code White?_"

"You heard me! Transport now, we're fighting the clock."

She materialized kneeling on the floor of the _Enterprise_'s sickbay, holding the woman in her arms. Immediately, a medic was standing next to her, helping her lift the patient onto a biobed.

"What happened?" Beverly asked urgently.

"Shot through the chest. Body's still warm. I thought there was a chance."

"There might be. Neural stimulator."

"Neural stimulator locked in." Alyssa was on top of it faster than should have been possible.

"Interlock current feeds. Set sensitivity factor to four point four."

"Affirmative."

"Monitoring two point three, one point eight."

The monitor began to show life functions. An untrained eye might have seen it as a good thing, but Tasha knew it meant nothing. Technology could support a body with no brain function for days, weeks, or even years.

"She's not responding, Doctor. Her synaptic network is breaking down," Alyssa reported somberly.

"Let's go for direct reticular stimulation. I know it's risky but we don't have a choice."

Tasha felt an odd sense of - something - when the machine was hooked up, but she shoved it aside. The woman jerked when the current went through her, but nothing changed.

Beverly was nothing if not determined. She ordered the voltage turned up twice. Finally, on the fifth shock, they began to see results.

"I'm getting neural activity!" Alyssa announced.

"She's breathing on her own." Beverly said, sounding slightly relieved, "but it's not over yet. The shot went through her heart, she'll need extensive surgery. Damn, I wish we had a heart specialist."

"You can't do it?" Tasha asked.

"I _can_, but I'd rather not. I never studied cardiac surgery in depth, and this is a complicated procedure."

"Can we wait to get someone from the fleet?" Alyssa asked in a tone that suggested she knew the answer.

"She might not last that long."

"What about Julian?" Tasha asked. "He's studied cardiology, done some procedures. He's not a specialist -"

"Probably closer to it than I am. Get him. And then see if you can track down who she is."

"That shouldn't be too difficult. Yar to Bashir."

"_Bashir here_."

"We've got a serious medical emergency in the _Enterprise_'s sickbay, a heart wound. You're the closest thing to a cardiologist we've got."

"_On my way._"

"What shouldn't be too difficult?" Beverly asked.

"Figuring out who she is. Look." Tasha indicated the woman's nose. "She's not all Cardassian. There's some Bajoran in there somewhere." She frowned as it occured to her. "In fact, I have a sneaking suspicion that I know who this is without having to ask a single question."

"You do?" Beverly and Alyssa asked at the same time.

"Garak told me that Gul Dukat had an illegitimate daughter who was half-Bajoran. I found him cradling her body. I doubt a man of his stature would have been cradling a random young woman in a hallway. Anyway, we'll know soon enough. If it is her, Julian will know. Let me know what happens. I have to check on the security teams, and I want to be on the station when Admiral Ross gets in."

"Understood. I'll let you know."

xxxxxxxxx

"What the hell happened? What the hell were you thinking, racing into the wormhole like that?"

"I was thinking I would just confront them there, in the wormhole. They could only fly a few abreast, I thought we'd have a shot at taking them."

"One ship against a whole fleet." She eyed her longtime ex-boyfriend with something resembling a laugh. "You really are crazy. So what happened? You can't tell me you single-handedly beat an entire fleet without so much as scratching the _Defiant_."

"I didn't. You remember what I told you about the wormhole aliens?"

"Yeah, sort of. They're incorporeal, they don't exist in linear time as we experience it, and they think of you as their intermediary."

"They have a special tie to Bajor."

"Yes, you told me."

"I pointed out that Bajor would be in danger if those ships come through the wormhole. The Bajoran Prophets took care of them."

"All of them?"

"Each and every one."

Tasha laughed. "Who ever said the Federation doesn't have powerful friends?"

xxxxxxxxx

"Well, you were right."

Tasha nearly tumbled over the railing she was leaning on. "Julian! Don't _do_ that."

"Sorry." He smiled. "I forget people's hearing isn't as good as mine."

"It's okay. So what was I right about?"

"Your mystery patient is Tora Ziyal, Gul Dukat's half-Bajoran daughter."

"Have you figured out what happened to her?"

"I spoke with Major Kira. Ziyal had turned her back on the Dominion and allied himself with a small uprising on the station, freeing Kira and several other prisoners from a holding cell. My guess would be that that was supposed to be an execution. She's lucky you came along."

"Then she'll live?"

Julian nodded. "I had to replace part of her heart with artificial tissue, but it's working normally. For awhile I was worried I'd have to replace the heart completely, but it wasn't as bad as it looked. Really, her mixed parentage saved her."

"How's that?"

"In a full Cardassian, her heart would have been exactly where the bolt went through her chest. But being part Bajoran, it was a few centimeters off from there, so it only went through one chamber of her heart. It was bad, but I don't know if she would have lived if it had hit her directly. It would have completely destroyed her heart."

"But a heart can be replaced."

"Under those circumstances, though, you're racing the clock like you wouldn't believe. I know you're thinking of Captain Picard, but from a medical standpoint it's just not the same. His heart was damaged beyond repair, but it was still able to beat - sort of - long enough for a replacement. Ziyal's heart would have been eradicated. She would have died instantly. She probably would have been beyond saving by the time you found her."

"What does - her father think of all this?" She didn't want to say _his_ name if she could help it.

"He doesn't know. Not that we didn't try," he added before she could say anything, "but he's convinced she's dead, and nothing I, Captain Sisko, or even Major Kira said made a bit of difference. He's gone insane."

"He's always been insane," she said flatly. "It's just starting to show through the cracks."

Julian raised an eyebrow. He had guessed there was more going on between her and Dukat than anyone - except, he suspected, Garak and the now-departed Enabran Tain, and maybe a few of her closest shipmates - had known. "Whatever you say."

xxxxxxxxx

"That was one hell of a battle plan," Ross informed her, speaking rather loudly to be heard over the partying personnel. "We got here sooner, and with significantly less casualties, than any of the predictions showed for the direct approach.

"How many?" she asked bluntly.

"How - what?"

"How many casualties, Admiral?"

"We're still working on getting an official count, but it looks to be somewhere in the neighborhood of three hundred. Projections for a direct engagement suggested a thousand or more casualties."

"Alpha Team?"

The look on Ross' face told her everything. "All of them?"

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, my god." All the excitement drained out of her. "Oh, God."

She fled the gaiety of the Promenade. She couldn't stand their joy anymore, not when all she could think about was a certain seventy-four people who weren't there to celebrate. She stumbled into a deserted hallway, leaning against the wall, unable to stand without its support.

Screams, moans, echoed through the hall. It took Tasha a moment to realize that she was the one who was making those noises. She couldn't have figured out how to stop in any case. Tears flowed freely down her face.

She didn't know how long it had been before she felt hands take her shoulders from behind. A voice whispered into her ear. "There now, Natasha. I'm here."

Only one person ever called her by her full name, to say nothing of the unusual pronunciation. "Captain -" she tried to pull herself together but it was in vain.

She heard him say something else she couldn't make out through her distress, but the next thing she knew she was standing in his ready room. He escorted her to the couch and sat her down, sitting next to her and pulling her close.

"Come, now. Just let it out."

She just sobbed. He kept whispering words, if they were words, to her, rubbing her back gently.

She made a choking sound and stood abruptly, one hand pressed to her mouth. Understanding, he took her arm and hurried her into the small bathroom just in time for her to be violently sick.

"I'm sorry, Captain," she whispered weakly when she had finished.

"Not at all," he said gently, helping her to her feet and back onto the couch. "Just lie down, you'll feel better soon."

"Captain - _all those people_ -" she gasped out.

"I know. I know." He rubbed her shoulder. "Natasha, what you did today is something most high-ranking years train for just in case they are confronted with such a situation. One of the requirements to be promoted to full commander is to demonstrate the ability to make a decision in the best interests of a ship, even at the cost of individual lives." He knew that lower-ranked officers weren't supposed to know about that facet of the command test, but he knew Tasha wouldn't tell, and no reasonable commander would ever put her in the simulation after this. It would be pointless. "You never had that training, that preparation, and you accomplished this on a far grander scale than most are ever asked to, in tests or in real life. I know that right now you're upset. I would be worried if you were not. But once you've processed this a little, I hope you can find room in your heart for a measure of pride, because you should be very proud of what you have accomplished."

He gripped her hand tightly and felt her squeeze back, an acknowledgment that she was listening. "I'll let you rest. Just call for me if you need me."

"Okay, Captain," she whispered.

xxxxxxxxx

"Captain Picard."

"Admiral." He wasn't exactly sure why Ross was standing on his bridge. "Can I help you?"

"Your chief of security left me rather suddenly. I wanted to make sure she was all right."

"She's badly shaken. Regardless of all the logical numbers, regardless of the fact that she accomplished what needed to be done with the lowest possible number of casualties, it is very different to order troops into battle and to knowingly send people to their deaths."

Ross was already shaking his head sadly. "She should never have been put in that position, but she wouldn't let anyone else do it for her. I offered."

"It hardly matters. I know Natasha. She would carry the same guilt just for suggesting the idea."

"She'll never make Admiral with that attitude. Probably never make Captain either."

"I don't think she wants to."

"I got that impression the first time I met her. A pity. She could be one of the great commanders of all time."

"You think so?"

"Look at the way she handles her security team. I don't know how much you personally know about the members of your crew -"

"Not as much as I would like," the Captain admitted. "I just don't have time to handle that bulk of personnel files."

"What do you know about Jenna D'Sora?"

"My Assistant Chief of Security? She's a good officer."

"She is now. When she started out on the _Enterprise_, no one was entirely sure what to think of her. I happen to remember going over her file and wondering what would become of her. She was intelligent and good at what she did in theory, but she was flighty and disorganized. Commander Yar took Lieutenant D'Sora under her wing, befriended her. I'm not sure she even knew she was helping the Lieutenant become better, but I highly doubt that under any other commanding officer she would have ever become leadership material. She would always have been just a member of the team."

"I had another officer, an engineer, who was having problems that were obvious to the crew. I told his superior to befriend him to help him get it together. I never noticed D'Sora -"

"Because your Chief of Security befriended her without ever having to be told. That's a natural leader, Captain, if ever I've known one. I'd love to see her in a Captain's chair someday, but not even Will Riker is so resistant to the idea of such a position."

"If she was any other way, she wouldn't be the Natasha Yar we all know and love."

"Captain, what would you say to the idea of a promotion for this? Even if she won't accept command, fill out another one of those pips on her collar. Heaven knows she deserves it."

But Picard was already shaking his head. "I think at the moment that would be the worst thing we could do. Giving her an award for a deed she's already a mess about it would just compound the mess she's digging herself into. I _will_ give her that promotion, but not here and not now."

**I hope the battle scene was executed to satisfaction. I don't have a lot of experience with those.**

**Realized I didn't give credit where it was due in the last chapter, so Chapter 26 contained references to the TNG episodes ****_The Best of Both Worlds _****and ****_Redemption _****and the DS9 episode ****_Call to Arms._**** This one contains references to the TNG episode ****_Thine Own Self_****, as well as drawing the dialogue around Ziyal's resuscitation from ****_Skin of Evil_****, and the DS9 episodes ****_Sacrifice of Angels _****and ****_Blood Oath_****, and is sort of a substitute for Kor's fate in****_ Once More Unto the Breach_****, which won't be fitting this canon. I put in the bit about Dukat thinking Ziyal is dead because I wanted her to live but his reaction to her death is so key in the story.**

**The idea of Tasha's breakdown is taken loosely from the M*A*S*H episode ****_Bombshells_**** (the rest of this paragraph contains SPOILERS) in which a character must choose to sacrifice one life to save several others, and is so distraught he gives the medal he receives for the mission to another soldier.**

**Please review.**


	28. Chapter TwentyEight: Between Two Worlds

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Between Two Worlds**_

"Tasha!"

It took Tasha a second to figure out why the young Klingon in warrior's garb with a notable Earth accent was calling her name. "Why, Alexander!"

She embraced him warmly. "What are you doing here?"

He took a step back and gestured to his uniform. "What's it look like?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Since when? I thought you hated all things Klingon."

He shrugged. "In the time I spent away from my dad, I realized that I'd never been fair to him. My mother had a very troubled relationship with the Klingon Empire. From the moment I was born, she told me about how awful the Klingon tradition was. Then I met my father, who wanted so much for me and him to be so Klingon, and I saw that as a disrespect of my mother. But when I thought about it, the reason he's so Klingon is the same reason I _don't_ want to be. He's trying to respect _his_ parents. And when I was away from his pressure I had a chance to really look at it and I realized that. I'll never be a Klingon like he is, but I don't have to buck that so hard. Joining the Defense Force is a way to protect Earth too, and it's a chance for me to create my own identity in relation to the Empire. Not my mom's or my dad's but mine."

"You've done a lot of thinking."

He nodded. "I've been trying to patch things up with my dad too. He's made me part of his new family."

"Wait, what?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Obviously."

"Well, we both know that Gowron took away the honor of my father's house because my dad decided to defy him and do what he felt was right. Well, after everything they went through together in that prison camp they were in, Martok made my dad a member of his House. And then they made me one."

She hugged him tightly. "I'm proud of you, Alexander."

"Really?"

"You've spent your life being torn in half. Instead of resigning to being conflicted, you took a step back, thought it over, and came up with a middle ground that suited you. That's a sign of real maturity, and you'd better believe it's something to be proud of."

He conferred a warm smile on the woman who had always been a sort of surrogate mother to him. "Thanks, Tasha. That means a lot."

xxxxxxxxx

"Commander."

"General. I thought you were leaving today."

"I am. Later." He fell into step with her. "But I could not depart without congratulating you on the success of this mission. Ah, now," he continued when he saw the expression on her face, "you knew casualties were unavoidable when you got into this."

"It's different," she mumbled.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I spoke to Admiral Castillo after I first learned about the time-traveling mess I managed to get myself into. The Federation had been at war since 2346 in that timeline."

"Yes?" If this had been just about anyone else, he would have snapped at them to get to the point already. But Tasha was special. His Tasha, as he thought of her, had always brought out a softer side in him. At first it had been something she had to coax out every time they spoke, but later he had become so used to her that the change had been automatic. That instinct kicked in with this woman too, no matter how many times he reminded himself that she wasn't his lover.

"That other Tasha - that other _me_ - must have known there was a war on when she joined Starfleet."

"She did," he confirmed, and she looked a little ill-at-ease with this. Then again, it had to be strange to have a part of your life, in a sense, that someone knew better than you did.

"We _weren't_ at war when I joined Starfleet. To seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where none have gone before - _that_ was the Starfleet I joined. I didn't ever want or expect to get mixed up in something like this."

"The Tasha I knew joined Starfleet to protect her homeland."

"I figured as much. And maybe I would have, if I had known what was coming. But the fact of the matter is, I _didn't_. And even more pertinently, Starfleet wasn't exactly preparing its officers for this sort of thing. I didn't have combat training - I didn't even have the minimal training given to command-level officers."

"Which makes your victory all the more impressive." He stepped in front of her to stop her forward motion. "I heard a recording of your strategy meeting, the one where you proposed this course of action. Was it not you who said 'It would be easier on our consciences, maybe, not to have to order people into near-certain death, but in the long run it would mean more lives lost'?"

"How -"

"Pointed ears and upswept eyebrows are not the only remnants of our Vulcan ancestors in the Romulan race."

"Perfect recall."

"Exactly. At any rate, your assessment was correct from both a tactical and moral standpoint. And remember - I know you. If you hadn't voiced your idea, if you had backed down, you would be feeling even more guilt over the additional lives you would feel you could have saved."

"Now _that's _off-putting."

"What?"

"I know next to nothing about you. And yet, you know me almost as well as I know me."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. It's just a stupid time paradox."

"And yet, I'm grateful for it."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Tasha - this is your, shall we say, prime reality? If that paradox had not happened, I would never have met _my_ Tasha. And I do not know where I would be." He resisted the urge to reach for her hand. "She made me a better person. I married a few years after she died, you know."

"I didn't."

"Of course you didn't, what am I saying? Sela wouldn't have told you - she resented me and my wife. I wasn't thrilled about the idea either, but everyone around me insisted I needed to. There was a lot of speculation. I told you that the extent of my relationship with - your counterpart - remained a secret, but people talked. My advisers warned me that I must marry formally or risk my respect within the military ranks."

"So you did?"

"She was - a fancy of my childhood, a woman I had once thought I might marry. I tolerated her. I grew to like her. But I have never loved her. My heart is a gift I could give only once. Tasha was what I needed, the only woman who could ever bring out what I tried to keep buried. " He paused and smiled, a real, genuine smile in a face worn down by years of pain. "See? You have no cause for concern."

"I don't follow."

"You were concerned because I knew so much more about you than you did about me. But the more time you spend around me, the more you will get to know me. You see, even though I know intellectually that you are not the woman I love, I still - some of the instincts, the changes I always felt around her come back. I speak freely, I hold nothing back." He stopped and drew a breath. "Not a day goes by that I don't miss her."

"I can't imagine."

He glanced down to her left hand, where she bore the ring that he knew was a human way of showing an intent to marry. "Whoever he is, if you are anything like my Tasha at all, he is a fortunate man."

They had reached the docking ring. "Tell me one thing, General."

"Anything."

"Your Tasha - how old was she when she escaped her homeworld?"

It took only a moment for him to recall this, even though she'd only told him once. "She was twelve. Why?"

She forced some neutrality onto her face. "No real reason, I guess. Mere curiosity."

"Ah. Well then, goodbye." He nodded to her. "Hopefully, we will meet again."

"It would be my honor."

xxxxxxxxx

"Twelve. She was twelve."

"What?" Data did a bit of a double-take. Tasha's comment seemed to have come out of nowhere.

"My alternate reality counterpart. She was twelve when she got off Turkana."

"You've asked the General, I presume."

She nodded. "I was curious. I had to know."

"Why?" Data gave her a curious look. "Forgive me for asking, but what difference does it make?"

She didn't give him a spoken answer, but her hand moved to cover her midsection - the belly that had borne her one child, and would never bear another. Understanding filled Data's eyes, and his own pale hand gently cupped around hers.

"I had a child she never did," she whispered, "and she had a child I never could."

He pulled her backwards into his arms, keeping his hand over hers. "Does having children really mean that much to you?"

"I - yes, I guess. I don't really know why, but after Eva, and then basically helping to raise my foster sister, I just always wanted a chance to have my own."

"Your own in what sense?"

"Children I could raise, not just help someone else raise, who would call me Mommy, who I could hold in my arms as babies and watch them grow up - get everything I never had with Eva. I know I could never replace her, but - I don't want my only experience as a parent to be giving birth in a dark alley and having my child die in my arms two days later."

"What about Lal?"

"I - she grew up too fast. Much faster even than you did, if Juliana is to be believed. She was basically an adult by the time she was a year old. I love her dearly, I'm her mother, but I want to _raise_ a child. As crazy as it sounds, I want all the challenges that come with parenting."

Data pressed his lips into her hair. "There is always the option of using some sort of surrogacy or artificial incubation. Or -" he broke off rather suddenly.

"What?"

"It is nothing. A silly thought."

"Tell me."

"Well, it occurs to me - we are in the middle of a war."

"Uh, yeah." She tried to come up with a tactful way to point out that Data had just stated the incredibly obvious.

"Wars create orphans. Tragic, but true. Once we're married, and once this war is over, we could look into adopting our family."

A smile crossed Tasha's formerly grim face, and she turned in his arms to kiss him firmly on the mouth. "Data, you're a genius."

"It was a logical idea."

"It may have been staring me in the face, but I sure didn't see it." She rested her head on his chest. "_Our_family. Our family. It sounds so nice."

xxxxxxxxx

He came down here more than was rational. He was just glad no one had reason to look into his personal habits, or this would _definitely_ be a topic of discussion.

It was just a room, nothing special about it. A room built specifically for the purpose of confining a person, no less.

But he always thought he could feel the essence of the last person to be confined here.

_For the longest time, he just stood over her, staring, watching her sleep. He had watched her sleep a lot in the past five years, but this was different. This would be the last time. Tomorrow - he couldn't even think about tomorrow._

_His fingers ran almost involuntarily over her, taking in every tiny detail. The yellow hair - he would be shocked if more than two people on Romulus had it. Of course those two people should have been well off Romulus right now, not... He was trying not to be angry with Sela, but it wasn't easy. This was all her fault._

_His hand continued its gentle exploration, sliding through the ends of her short hair, caressing the gently rounded ear, then moving to her face, trying to memorize everything, every detail of how she looked and how she felt under his hand. His fingers tenderly brushed the lips he had kissed so many times. She stirred a little at this last touch, eyes fluttering open. He met them instantly with his, trying to etch that detail into his memory as well._

_"You shouldn't be here." She sat up a little._

_"I had to see you." He rested his forehead gently against hers. "I've tried everything I know, but there's nothing I can do, Tasha. I'm sorry."_

_She nodded. "I didn't think there was." She brushed the hair off his face, letting her hand rest on his cheek. "Don't blame our daughter. She doesn't understand."_

_She always knew what he was thinking without him having to say a word. It was both endearing and exasperating, but right now all he could think was how much he was going to miss that little trait of hers._

_"I never meant for this to happen."_

_"I know that. You're not to blame."_

_"I -"_

_"Whatever it is you're blaming yourself for, you can just forgive yourself right now, because I already have."_

_"Are you all right?" he asked, chastising himself for the stupidity of the question. "Have they been feeding you? Have they hurt you?" Of course those things were pointless to worry about in the long run, but he didn't want her to suffer._

_"I'm okay," she whispered, but her voice trembled as she said it._

_"What is it?" He let his gentle side shine through, the side no one but her ever saw._

_She gestured toward the outside door, the guard, and he could see tears shimmering in her eyes._

_"What did he do?"_

_She just shook her head, and he knew that meant she wasn't able to talk about it. He took her into his arms, bringing her head to his shoulder._

_"I'm sorry," she whispered weakly. "I really wanted - I wanted you to be my last -"_

_It hit him what she meant, and his entire body tensed in anger. "He didn't."_

_She nodded tearfully, and he tightened the embrace. "I mean nothing to these men. I'm going to die tomorrow anyway, what does it matter if they -"_

_"It matters to you, and that means it matters to me." He stroked her hair gently, holding her close. "And I'm going to make it matter to him."_

_"You shouldn't. Makar, they can't know - no one knows what we were to each other. Don't put yourself in danger for my honor. I won't be around long enough for it to matter."_

_"Stop it!" His vehemence surprised them both. "Tasha, please. I don't want to - I _can't_ think about that."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"It's all right." He continued to hold her close. "And don't worry. I can find ways to make him pay without anyone ever catching on."_

_"Promise me something."_

_"Anything."_

_"Don't tell Sela the truth. Not until she's much older. She had no idea of the consequences of her actions when she cried out. She was acting on impulse. It's what four-year-olds do. I don't want her to feel bad."_

_"I promise."_

_"And if you find someone else - don't let the memory of what we had tarnish your ability to have something else."_

_"There won't be anyone else." It wasn't an idle remark - he meant it. "Not like you. You are special - the only woman I have ever loved, and the only woman I will ever love."_

_"You don't know that."_

_"Yes, I do." He cradled her close._

_She met his eyes. "Did you send the guard away?"_

_"At the far end of the hall. He is not to return unless I call him."_

_"Then - make love to me."_

_"Tasha -"_

_"Please. I don't want my last time to be - like my first." He was well aware of her past._

_"Are you certain?" She had to be shaken after what the guard had done._

_"Yes, I'm certain."_

_He drew her back to the bed. He had insisted she be secured in one of their lockable rooms instead of a cell - it had earned him some odd looks, but he knew she feared small spaces, and he couldn't do that to her. The bed wasn't great, but it was a bed, not a metal bunk._

_He laid her on her back and slowly took off her shirt. There were bruises on her shoulders and ribcage from being restrained, and it made him sick. Forcing that aside, he began to undress himself._

_She was tense under him, and he felt her flinch when he began to remove her pants. Her whole body was trembling in spite of her efforts._

_Instantly, he climbed off her and began to replace her shirt. "No, Tasha. We can't."_

_"Why not?"_

_"You're not ready."_

_"I am -"_

_"Look at you. You're shaking."_

_"I'm fine."_

_"No, Tasha. I don't want our last time to be something you didn't really want. I don't want that to be the one time I hurt you."_

_"Niether do I," she admitted, and he could tell she was struggling not to cry. "I just -"_

_"Forget about him." Now fully clothed, he took his lover back in his arms. "Just remember the first time we said goodbye."_

_That had been three nights ago, before everything had fallen apart. When goodbye had been just a temporary thing, and their rather intense session in bed had been just a result of knowing it might take a long time before he could sneak into Federation territory and visit her. Now - now goodbye was forever, and it was tearing him apart._

_"I'm scared," she whispered._

_"I know." He could feel her shaking still._

_"I don't want to die."_

_"I don't want to lose you."_

_"Strange," she whispered into his neck, "five years ago, I was perfectly ready to give up my life without a second thought. I've had _five years_ I never thought I'd get, and now - I don't want to die," she repeated. "I don't want to leave you and Sela."_

_"And I'd do anything if it meant I could keep you with me."_

_"Stay with me."_

_"What?"_

_"Just until they change the guard. Please. I don't - I couldn't stand it if he hurt me again."_

_He needed no further convincing. Hurriedly shedding his boots, he climbed into the bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back into his chest. He relished every second of it. His last chance to hold her._

_Her shaking eased as he kept her pressed against him. He felt her relax as she fell asleep. He couldn't. He had to stay awake or he'd lose this time, never get it back._

_It was with extreme reluctance that he sat up, gently shaking her awake. "Tasha."_

_"What?" Her eyes fluttered open._

_"It's nearly time. I must leave."_

_She nodded reluctantly, watching intently as he pulled his boots on. Then he knelt next to her bed._

_"My dear Tasha." He drew her to him and kissed her. "I love you -" kiss - "so much -" kiss "I'll never forget you -" kiss "I'll miss you so much."_

_"I love you," she whispered back in between more kisses. "If I could -" kiss "do it all over again -" kiss "I wouldn't change anything -" kiss "that happened more than three days ago."_

_Their mouths met in one long, passionate kiss, broken only when they needed to breathe. Before he could stop himself, he unwrapped his arms from around her and stood._

_Forcing back the tears in his eyes, he looked back at her. "Goodbye, my darling Tasha."_

_He thought he saw tears in her eyes as well. "Goodbye."_

"General?"

The voice drew him from his memories, and he spun to see a figure standing there. The person was in shadow, but Makar didn't need a clear visual to recognize her. One glance at her pale hair told him all he needed to know. "Sela! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about that proposition you sent me, but - what are you doing _here_?"

He was a bit ashamed that he'd been caught. No one knew this little secret. That is, no one _had_ known.

"Just - thinking."

"You come down to the detention level to think?"

He looked her over carefully, Despite what he had let her and others think, Sela had always been his favorite. The only child of the only woman he had ever loved. "Yes, sometimes," he answered finally.

"Why?"

He drew a slow breath. He had honored Tasha's request for the past twenty-five years and not told Sela anything more than she already knew about her family situation or her mother's death than she already knew. But Sela was nearly thirty. She was no longer a child.

He beckoned to her. "Come. Sit. We need to talk."

"In a cell?"

"We won't be overheard."

She perched herself on the bed - the same bed where her parents had spent their final night together, though she didn't yet know that.

"The cell," she said briskly.

"The cell. This is where your mother was confined after she was arrested."

Sela said nothing, clearly waiting for him to elaborate further.

"Sela, while I don't know exactly what you're thinking, I could hazard a guess. The truth is that a lot of what you have believed - what all of Romulus believed - is false." He sat down next to her. "My marriage is political, Sela. I could never love my wife."

"Why?" she challenged.

"Because I gave my heart once. I could never give it again. Sela, your mother was the only woman I ever loved."

"She betrayed you."

He shook his head sadly. "Your mother didn't want you told this when you were a child, but I think you're old enough now. She never betrayed me. I knew all about her escape. We planned it together."

"You - what?"

"My dear daughter, you have never been fully accepted on Romulus, and your mother was never seen as more than a slave. I didn't want that life for either of you. Tasha wanted to stay, but she caved when I pointed out the life you would most likely lead on Romulus. It was both of us, together, who decided she would leave and take you with her. I should have warned you, but I was so afraid you'd say something by mistake, and that caution cost me the life of the woman I loved."

"You _wanted_ me to go with her." Sela's voice was soft with shock.

He nodded. "When she was imprisoned, I came down here to visit her. This was the last place we were ever together. That's why I come down here now."

"Sentimentality."

He shrugged, not denying it. "She always brought that out in me." He favored his firstborn with a fond look. "You're a lot more like her than you realize."

Sela opened her mouth to deny it, but stopped herself. After all, it appeared her father had known her mother far longer than she had.

**Sorry this took so long. Life got in the way.**

**A lot of this came out of nowhere, especially the flashback scene. What did you think?**

**Please review.**


	29. Chapter TwentyNine: Fortunes of Love

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Fortunes of Love**_

"Tasha! Hey - Tasha!"

"Jadzia!" She greeted her friend with a grin. "Bet you're glad they've got the station personnel back together!"

"What makes you say that?"

Tasha only tapped her collar bone in response. Jadzia looked down, seemed to notice what the collar of her civilian shirt covered - and more importantly, what it didn't, which was a bruise that didn't look like it had been sustained in a fight. But she only grinned. "Like you didn't do the same that first day you were back from that Dominion camp." Her eyes glittered. "Don't get me wrong. I love Worf, and I would never butt in on an established relationship, but if your fiancee was single and I was - it must really be something to be with an android."

Tasha shrugged. "It's been a long time since that really factored into our relationship."

"I don't mean the _relationship_. That's a personal thing. I mean the sex must be incredible."

"Jadzia!" She blushed scarlet.

"You're not denying it!"

"I notice there are things you're not denying either. Like what Julian told me about all the injuries he's healed on you recently. That must be some calisthenics program."

It was Jadzia's turn to blush, though to her credit she also laughed. "Julian needs to learn to keep his mouth shut. But actually, there was another reason I came looking for you."

"What's that?"

"Worf and I are getting married."

"You already told me that."

"I mean soon. The end of this week."

"I thought you were going to wait until the war was over."

"We were. But we decided we want to do this sooner rather than later. For one thing, Alexander's leaving the day after the wedding is now scheduled. For another -" she bit her lip, looking as serious as Tasha had ever seen her. "It'll be a miracle if all our friends make it through this war. I want to do it now, while I'm sure everyone I want there can be there. Now I know you're not due out until the day after Alexander leaves. So what do you say?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

"You're not mad, are you? That we're preempting your wedding?"

"Nah, that's not for two months yet."

"Great!" Jadzia beamed and hugged her. "There'll be a party in my quarters, 1600, day after tomorrow. You and Data are welcome. And tell Will he can come - and bring a date. And if you know anyone else who'd like a good party, bring them too. The more the merrier."

She skipped off, leaving Tasha to ponder the whirlwind that was her friend.

xxxxxxxxx

"Someone's in a good mood." Tasha teased. Julian was staring out the window as though there was something intensely fascinating in the stars.

"You heard about the wedding?"

"Yep. You owe me one."

"What for?" Finally, he turned and looked at her.

"Worf's engaging in some Klingon ritual in the holodeck with Alexander and Martok and Data and Ben. He wanted to include you and O'Brien too but I talked him out of it."

"You didn't talk him out of including Data or Captain Sisko?"

"Data's an android," she pointed out. "The only pain he's going to feel is being separated from me for four days. And Ben chose to go along with it even knowing full well what he was in for."

"Oh. Thanks for saving me."

"At your service. What's bothering you?"

"I should be happy about this, shouldn't I? I mean, they're both friends of mine. But -"

"But what?"

"But I can't be."

"Why?"

"Because part of me wishes Worf had never come to the station."

"Have two been having problems?"

"Not as far as he's concerned. He doesn't know - but he ruined my chances."

Tasha said nothing, waiting for him to explain.

"I love her," he said finally. "I love Jadzia. Maybe it's a schoolboy's crush, I don't know, but either way I can't just thrust it aside. I am _in love_ with her. I thought I could ask her out, get to know her - I was different back in those days. I was so childish, so naive, I'm sure she never took me seriously when she first met me. I told you about the Bell Riots - what I never told you was how much it changed me, opened my eyes. I was never the same, and it was for the better, but before I'd gotten up the guts to make my move, Worf shows up. It was so clear she was attracted to him - I couldn't get between that. I didn't love her enough."

"Or maybe you loved her too much."

Tasha and Julian both jumped to see none other than the _Enterprise_'s Chief Engineer standing a few feet away.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just happened to overhear, and, well, I know how you feel. Mind if I sit down?"

"Of course not," Tasha replied, and Julian also motioned for him to go ahead.

"As it happens, something similar happened to me. This was back when I was an Ensign. There was a girl on our ship, also an Ensign."

"Pretty?" Julian asked.

"Well, so I'm told. I don't see the same way others do, remember? But even from a distance, she seemed smart and strong and - and just everything I'd ever wanted. But I couldn't get up the courage to so much as say hello. She was on the fast track to become a Lieutenant, so it was said, and I was just a shuttle pilot. I thought I had no chance. But there was this wedding - well, it started as a wedding. It was really an excuse for a formal, basically, up to and including pairing off. Well, I thought, this was my chance, but it took me a long time to ask. Guess I'm lucky she hadn't already promised to go with someone else, but she said yes."

"Then it's not like me," Julian said sullenly.

"I'm not finished. Well, we ended up having a really good time, so I asked her for another date, and then another, and another, and long story short we dated for two years. Then I got transferred. We promised each other nothing was going to change, but really things had already changed, and we both knew it. I still loved her, but the fire wasn't there. We tried it for a year, but I was fighting the inevitable. So I decided I loved her enough to let her go." He smiled a little wistfully. "And wouldn't you know it, not a month after we broke up we ended up on the same ship. Well, I tried to act as natural as possible, pretend I didn't still have feelings for her - got the equivalent of drunk not two months in and made a fool of myself in front of her," he added with a soft laugh, thinking about what it must have looked like from her perspective. "Well, like you were saying with Jadzia, it was very clear to me soon that she was attracted to someone else, someone I considered a close friend. I cared too much about the two of them to get between them. I was sure I'd be stuck on her forever."

By this point, Tasha was staring at him, astonished, wondering if he even remembered she was sitting right there. Fortunately, Julian didn't seem to have noticed her reaction.

"So what happened?" Julian asked eagerly.

"Leah happened." His whole face lit up as it always did when he talked about her. "Of course, when I first met her she was married, but just falling in love with her - it made what I had felt for my ex feel like a child's crush. And eventually, she loved me back."

"What about her husband?"

"He died a few years ago. That's the only part that bothers me - I had hoped she'd get divorced or something, but not that. But we're together now, and I can say without a second's hesitation that it was worth everything I went through with my ex to get to where I am now. We both have people who are better for us, who we really love with a love that will last the rest of our lives, and we've stayed friends through it all. And you'll get there."

"You think so?"

"Sure." His combadge beeped. "La Forge here."

"_Sir, there's a slight problem down here. We don't think it's anything serious, but could you come have a look at it?_"

"On my way. La Forge out." He smiled at Julian. "You'll find her." Then he hurried off.

"I think I'd better be going too. I have a meeting with someone."

"All right." Julian looked more cheerful now. "If you happen to find someone appropriate, send her my way, won't you?"

"Anytime!" she called over her shoulder. "Yar to Troi. Are you busy right now?"

"_Not for the next hour._"

"Can I meet with you in your office? It's important."

"_Of course. I'll be waiting for you._"

xxxxxxxxx

"So. What seems to be the problem?"

"I've hurt someone," Tasha said bluntly. "At least, I think I hurt someone. A long time ago. I didn't mean to, but I did. And I never knew. Except now I know."

"Tasha, you're not helping me. I need details. Just who is it you're afraid you've hurt?"

She bit her lip, avoiding Deanna's gaze. "Geordi. I hurt Geordi."

She raised an eyebrow. As far as she could tell, they had been the best of friends, practically brother and sister, since the _Enterprise-_D's launch. "What happened?"

"Do you remember how just before we launched, about ten years ago now, I asked you for advice on whether to continue a relationship that had lost its spark?"

"I think so, vaguely."

"Geordi and I were dating. We'd gotten together when we were on the _Victory_. It was great for awhile, but it started to fade. After I talked to you, I broke up with him. I realized that while I still loved him, I loved him more as a brother than a lover. I always figured he'd felt the same way. I knew it took him awhile to get over me, but I guess I just thought that was the remnant of our passion. Now I know he was in love with me - right up until Leah. He told me he'd stopped having the same kind of feelings. Now I think he may have lied to me."

"Does that upset you?"

"Yes! But not at him, at _me_. I broke his heart and I never knew it. And then I went and started dating his best friend."

"Not for a year."

"That's not quite true. You never did ask what I did after I infected you with the Tsiolkovsky virus. But it's more than that. We had sex," she blurted out before she could stop herself

"You mean, you and Data?"

"Yeah. When we were under the influence of the virus. Geordi and I never - I was so gun-shy, and he wasn't pushy at all. I dated him for three years, but we never crossed that last line, and then I got the equivalent of drunk and had sex with a man who apart from the past seven weeks I hadn't seen in the better part of a decade. He was chasing me, and I was chasing Data."

"Did you love Data?"

"Yes. In a way I never loved Geordi, for all I did love him, and I did. But I never meant to hurt Geordi. I still love him like a brother."

"Then there's no shame in what you did. We all did stupid things under the influence of that virus. But Tasha, I can only help you so much. You know who you need to talk to."

"Geordi. Yes, I guess I do."

"Can I ask one thing? How did you find out about this?"

"Let's just say, he was giving advice to someone in a similar predicament."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha paused before pressing the buzzer on Geordi's door. For a moment, she half-hoped he wouldn't be there. Of course, she knew better. She had specifically checked to make sure he would be before setting one foot outside her own quarters.

"Come in!"

"Geordi, can we talk?"

"Sure, what's up?"

She sat slowly on his couch, trying to leave a little distance between them. "It's about what you told Julian earlier."

"I'm sorry. I should have asked you before I spilled the story of our entire relationship."

"It's not that. You didn't use my name, I'm sure he doesn't know who I am. It's just - you never told me any of that. You told me you didn't feel what you had anymore."

"I didn't, but it was pretty damn close."

"Geordi," she scooted closer to take his hand. "I never wanted to hurt you. Why didn't you tell me? Why did you make me think you wanted to end it same as I did?"

"The same reason." One benefit of the ocular implants was that he could actually look her in the eyes. "I couldn't keep you trapped in a relationship you didn't want. Like I told Julian, I knew you didn't feel the same way anymore, and I wasn't going to make you choose. I care about you too much. Anyway, it wasn't entirely untrue, what I said. I could feel that we were pulling apart, forcing ourselves to stay together. And I love Leah, in a way I never loved you." He might have justified that statement, but he knew she felt the same way about Data. "You're like my sister, and _that's_ a relationship we can keep up for a lifetime."

She hugged him. "I'm sorry all the same."

He returned the embrace warmly. "Never be sorry. You gave me three wonderful years, and the confidence I needed to get into other relationships. I wouldn't trade the way things happened between us for anything."

xxxxxxxxx

"Problem?"

"Nothing ship-related," Jenna replied, not perking up at all. "Why do I keep making these mistakes?"

"What mistakes?"

"Men," she said with a sigh. "I keep ending up with the ones who just don't care, or just don't care enough. The ones where the job comes first, and the friends come second. And I'm stuck in a distant third." She sighed. "I told myself I wouldn't keep making the same mistake. But every time, the first few dates they seem like everything I want, and then it just fades away."

"What kind of man are you looking for?" Tasha asked softly.

"Someone who cares about me, who does the little things without being asked. Someone who can laugh and have a good time but also be serious. And cute, of course." She glanced at Tasha. "What's with that look on your face?"

"What look?"

"You have an odd look on your face."

"Oh, do I? Huh." She chewed her lip. "I know something that might cheer you up a bit."

"What's that?"

"Party. Tomorrow, 1600 hours, on the station, Jadzia Dax's quarters."

"I can't just go in there! I don't even know her!"

"Listen, from what she told me it's going to be the kind of party where one more body hardly makes a difference. Come on. We'll have fun."

xxxxxxxxx

"Remind me what the point of this is?"

"To have a good time." Tasha hardly had to force any of the exasperation into her voice. _Where the hell is he_?

This should have worked. She had already checked with him to be sure he'd be coming, and she'd all but dragged Jenna to the party so she wouldn't have a chance to back out. Unfortunately, she might still have a chance to leave before Tasha could put her plan into motion.

Then she saw him. Over two meters tall, Julian stood higher than most of the crowd, and Tasha waved him over. He leaned into her, practically shouting to be heard. "Remind me what the point of this is?"

Tasha almost laughed. "I thought you could use a chance to relax."

"You already know how I feel about this."

"What?" She had, of course, heard him perfectly well, but that didn't mean she couldn't use the noise to her advantage. "Oh - excuse me. Julian, Jenna D'Sora. Jenna, Julian Bashir."

"Hi."

"Hi."

And Tasha decided her timing couldn't have been better. At that moment, Jadzia was headed in her direction. A quick side-step put her in her friend's path. "Jadzia!"

"Hey!" It was clear that Jadzia had already been hitting the drinks - and that it wasn't synthahol they were drinking. "Some party, huh?"

"Yeah." Tasha looked over her shoulder to see the two friends she had left behind striking up a hesitant conversation. "Some party."

**This was supposed to be longer but it took me so long to write I decided to go ahead and give it to you as is. The rest will be the next chapter.  
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**I was never really satisfied with the way I wrote Tasha and Geordi's breakup in _Perfectly Logical_, so I decided to give them a little more time here to hash things out and fill in some details.**

**This chapter references the episodes _Past Tense, The Naked Now, _and _You Are Cordially Invited._**

**Please review.**


	30. Chapter Thirty: Who Knows?

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty: Who Knows?**_

"Hello."

Tasha nearly fell from the balcony. "You been taking lessons from Julian?" she asked the woman who had apparently appeared out of thin air. "He's always doing it."

"You learn to be inconspicuous when you know that no one would react well to seeing you." She stepped a bit more into the light, and Tasha recognized her, and immediately understood the sentiment.

"Ziyal, right?"

"Yes. I've been looking for you." She looked Tasha in the eyes. "Tasha Yar, if I'm not much mistaken. Julian tells me you saved my life."

"He underestimates his own role. He saved you. I just got you to the right place at the right time." She glanced over her shoulder again at the thought, smiling to herself.

"What? What are you looking at?"

"Julian." Tasha pointed down to Quark's Bar, which was empty due to the late hour except for a few staff, a Lurian who never seemed to be anywhere _but_ the bar and had a reputation for talking people's ears off, and a human couple sitting at one of the tables: Julian Bashir and Jenna D'Sora, deep in conversation and oblivious to the world.

"That's sweet." Ziyal smiled. "He deserves that."

"You know him well?"

"Somewhat. Mostly through Garak, but you see, the friendship those two have - it's special. Julian was pretty much the only person to really accept Garak when the Federation first took over the station. Oh, Garak would never acknowledge that any of this is significant to him, but I know it is." Ziyal smiled a little. "Like you. He'd never acknowledge that the way you treat him means anything at all, but it does come up in casual conversation from time to time, and if there's one thing I know about Garak it's that he doesn't say anything he thinks is unimportant."

"I couldn't do anything else. Garak was - a small light in a very dark place. What he did was incredibly insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it meant the world to me."

"What? What is it he did?"

"He was kind to me - at a time when I was surrounded by people who enjoyed being cruel. His first - his first words to me were 'Don't worry. I won't hurt you.' I don't think he could ever fully appreciate how much that meant to me in that moment."

"Who knows? There's a lot about Garak that only Garak knows." Ziyal smiled. "There aren't many Cardassians, exiled or otherwise, who would accept me. For that matter, the number of Bajorans who would is limited too. Women like my mother were considered collaborators by Bajor and the Cardassians saw them as fit to use as concubines but not fit to actually make a part of the family - not fit to bear the children of Cardassian men. Haven't you ever wondered why there aren't more of us?"

"I guess I never really thought about it."

"A lot of Bajoran 'comfort women' were forced to undergo sterilization. Those that weren't were almost all made to use birth control injections. If a woman _did_ become pregnant, chances were she wouldn't be allowed to carry to term, regardless of her own wishes. In the few cases where a child was actually born, they were either killed outright or mother and child were sent back to Bajor or to a labor camp. I know my father is far from perfect, recent events have showed that all too well, but he is the only Cardassian I know of that actually kept his half-Bajoran child and her mother, that tried to send us to safety instead of condemning us to death when he knew he couldn't keep us around any longer, who decided instead of killing me to claim me openly, knowing he would lose his position and his family for it."

"Ziyal, he's insane," Tasha burst out. "Insane and cruel! How can you defend him?"

"I don't defend what he's done, except to say that when you say he's insane, I think you're more right than you realize. He's always been a little unstable - thinking back, I know that now. But he truly did love my mother - did love me. When we went missing on our way to Lissepia, I think it loosened a few of those screws. Power became his new love, and he became greedy, and that caused him to do a lot of unconscionable things. For awhile, when he found me again, I trumped that. He gave his power up for me. But it had become a - a sort of addiction. I don't know if you know anything about addiction -"

"Too much," Tasha cut in.

"Then you know that even when a person appears to have overcome the addiction, the cravings are still there. If tempted too harshly, even someone who's been clean for a long time can relapse. That's what happened to him. The Dominion dangled the prospect of a return to power in front of him, and he wasn't strong enough to refuse. For what it's worth," she added, "if I'd known what he was up to, I would have tried to talk him out of it - which is very possibly why he didn't tell me."

"Oh, Ziyal, I don't blame you for your father's actions. I just - it's going to be a long time before I can find it in my heart to forgive what he did to me, if I ever can."

"When you said you were surrounded by people who enjoyed being cruel - was my father one of those people?"

Tasha was tempted for a moment to lie, but the look on the half-Cardassian girl's face pleaded for a straight answer. "I'm sorry, Ziyal."

"I asked, didn't I?" she replied sadly. "What did he do?"

"I don't like to talk about it."

"Please. I have to know." Tears were forming in her eyes. "I have to know the truth."

Tasha bit down hard on her lower lip before answering. The terror of those five days had never ceased to haunt her, and she wasn't sure it ever would. "He had his guards beat me. He didn't want any significant information - he just wanted to hurt me. Then he ordered the guards out, and he - he -"

"Oh, gods." Tasha could see by the look on Ziyal's face that she had put it together, and she was relieved that she didn't have to say it out loud.. "I'm so sorry."

"You know I don't blame you."

"But still, my _father. _And Garak knew about this?"

"Yes."

"Excuse me." She hurried off.

"Tasha?"

"Data!"

"Are you all right?"

"What are you doing here?" she asked even as she turned into him, slipping her arms around his neck in a silent plea to be held. "I thought you were with Worf."

Data grimaced a little. "As things stand at this moment, there will be no wedding."

"_What_?"

"Part of the Klingon tradition is that the matron of the house must accept all women who marry in; in this case, Lady Sirella. Jadzia made a bad impression on Sirella, she refused to allow Jadzia to join."

Tasha shook her head. "It's too bad. They were so clearly made for each other." She bit her lip. "Maybe I can talk to Sirella, make her see reason."

"If anyone can, I truly believe it is you." He smiled at her. "I love you, you know."

"You bet I know. And the feeling's completely mutual."

"What is wrong?"

She shook her head in amazement. "Never could fool you, could I?"

"Rarely."

Burying her head in his shoulder, she told him about Ziyal's inquiries. He gently ran his hands up and down her back, trying to soothe her. He could feel that she was shaking a little even as she tried to hide it.

"You are safe, darling," he whispered. "It is all right now. You are all right." He gently hooked one arm behind her knees and lifted her. "Data to _Enterprise._ Two for site-to-site transport directly to my quarters."

xxxxxxxxx

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Garak looked up at the young woman who had just burst into his shop. "I might be able to tell you that, my dear," he replied, "if you would tell me what you're talking about."

"I've just been speaking with Tasha Yar, and she happened to mention why she hates my father, _and_ that you knew about it. You knew what he'd done, what he was capable of. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Ziyal, Ziyal." Garak shook his head sadly. "You were so young, so naive, and you loved your father so much. How could I have destroyed that innocence?"

"Better then letting me find out on my own from one of his victims!" She took a swing at him, connecting solidly with his face. He turned his head with the blow but otherwise didn't respond. She slapped him again, and the result was the same.

"By all means," he said calmly, "continue to hit me if it will make you feel better."

"It won't." The fight drained out of her. "It's not you I want to hit."

"I know."

"How can he do something like that? How can he be so caring towards me and so cruel towards someone else?" Her eyes were full of tears. "How is it that after all these years, I feel like I never knew him at all?"

"I don't know." He shrugged aside his normal aversion to contact and put an arm around her shoulders. "But Ziyal, I know he genuinely loved you."

"And that changes anything?"

"That's up to you."

They sat in silence for a long time.

xxxxxxxxx

"Lady Sirella?"

"Do I know you?"

"No. Tasha Yar, I'm a friend of Worf's."

"I assume this has something to do with the wedding?"

"Yes." She fixed Sirella with a look. "Why did you tell Jadzia she couldn't be a member of your house?"

"She has no regard for the house. She is weak, she contradicts me, and she openly flaunts the history of my family line. She had the audacity to state that my grandmother, the Emperor's daughter, was in fact nothing more than a concubine given the name of the true daughter in order to create an illusion of the line."

"Is it true?" Tasha asked pointedly.

"That is beside the point."

"Are you listening to yourself? You're faulting her for telling the truth because it's not what you want to believe! That doesn't seem like an honorable attitude to me."

"What do you know of honor? Of the struggles the Klingon people have faced over the years? What do you know of the strength needed to overcome overwhelming odds?"

"I could ask you the same question," she shot back, suddenly aware of how she could play this to get Sirella to at least hear her out. "You grew up having armies at your family's beck and call, ready to attack at the slightest sign of dishonor, to say nothing of an actual threat to your life."

"And you, who grew up in the stronghold of the Federation, had so much less?"

"You're wrong," Tasha countered. "The Federation isn't all a palace of privileged and overprotected people. My home planet self-destructed when I was a child. I spent the next ten years just trying to survive, _on my own_ mind you, not with some army to protect me. There were people out on that planet out to attack or kill anyone they could for no reason at all, just because it gave them a thrill. So you can see how, compared to me, your own life seems pampered."

Sirella was silent for a long moment, and Tasha was gratified. It was clear that she'd really gotten to the Klingon woman. "What is your point?" she said finally. "Why do you tell me this?"

"Two reasons. The first," she admitted, "is to get your attention. I knew you think of humans as weak and contemptible, and that if you thought I was some spoiled child of the Federation you'd never hear me out."

Something flashed across Sirella's face that might have been a smile. "You have quite the measure of my character, I must say. And the second reason?"

"To make a point. Anyone can seem inadequate or weak if the standards are set high enough, even Lady Sirella of the house of Martok. You don't like the idea of a non-Klingon marrying into the family, so you're determined to find fault. You've set her a test that you know she'll fail because you want her to fail. Then you'll have an excuse to exclude her."

"The rituals are traditional!"

"But the criteria to judge success or failure are subjective."

Sirella said nothing, which Tasha took as a good sign. She was listening.

"You don't like Jadzia because she's not Klingon. It's as simple as that. But you don't want to say that, so you come up with a whole series of other reasons, a lot of tests with subjective results, so you can say something else."

"Why does Worf insist on marrying - _that_? Is no Klingon woman good enough for him?"

"In a lot of minds, Worf isn't good enough for any Klingon woman." She watched Sirella for the subtle reaction she suspected was coming. She wasn't disappointed; Tasha plowed on. "Including yours, if I'm not mistaken. Worf may be Klingon by blood, but he is also a Starfleet officer, and because of that he's too human for you. Even though, if anything, he's more Klingon than Klingon."

"How is that?" It was clear she hadn't seen this side. She was genuinely interested now. Tasha pressed the advantage.

"Worf bases his Klingon identity on an ideal. If I had to count all the times I've heard him say 'A Klingon does not...' , it would take me at least an hour. And then I spend time around people like your husband and I realize that real Klingons do a lot of those things Klingons supposedly don't do - like smile and laugh." Martok had found ways to smile even in the dark time in the internment camp. Seeing that had made her see keenly that Worf, who didn't crack a smile even on the rare occasion he beat Will Riker at poker, was far from the norm. "He feels deficient, and he overcompensates."

"He has been exiled from the Klingon Empire on two occasions."

"In the first case, he was doing it to protect the Empire. The crime his father supposedly committed was actually committed by the father of Duras, which Gowron knew when he reinstated Worf's family honor. On the second, I think what he did was more honorable than anything. He held onto the truth and his values even under pain of exile. You and I both know there were no Founders on Cardassia. There was a Founder in Gowron's inner circle, trying to force the Klingons to turn against Cardassia, to get us fighting each other so we wouldn't unite to fight them. Worf saw that the Empire was on a self-destructive path, and he refused to go along. He made his own judgment and stuck to it. Your husband recognized this in him. But that's the real problem, isn't it?" she added, seeing Sirella's subtle reaction and deciding to run with it. "Jadzia's not your real problem; Worf is. You don't like that Martok added Worf to your family, but you have no control over that, so you're using what power you have to contain that as much as you can. Frankly, you seem more vengeful than objective." She turned and walked out before Sirella could respond, leaving the Klingon to consider her words.

xxxxxxxxx

Cheers consumed the Promenade. Tasha beamed, glad that after all the challenges the wedding had in fact come to fruition.

Worf had gone to Jadzia and tried to patch things up, but Jadzia had shown her own stubbornness and rebuffed him, making everyone think the wedding, and in fact the entire relationship, was down the drain. It had been Ben Sisko, Jadzia's oldest friend, who had finally talked her around.

Sirella had performed the wedding ceremony. Tasha had been glad to see that. Sirella had given the traditional wedding ceremony, and then added to one of the traditional lines, "To this very day, no one can oppose the beating of two Klingon hearts," a soft "Not even me" before going on with the ceremony.

At the moment, Martok, Chief O'Brien, Julian, Sisko, Data, and Alexander were attacking the couple with soft sticks, apparently a ritual designed to commemorate something-or-other in Klingon history, as the rest of the crowd clapped and cheered.

The attack broke up and the reception began. Tasha found herself swept up by Data and pulled onto the dance floor. Nearby, Julian was dancing with Jenna. The blonde security officer caught Tasha's eye and smiled.

"In five weeks, three days, and five days," Data whispered in her ear, nodding towards Worf and Jadzia who were dancing together, "that will be us."

She smiled, letting her head rest on his shoulder. "Yes, Data. That will be us."

**Hey, I'm back! Sorry for the delay.**

**This chapter references the TNG episode _Reunion_ and the DS9 episodes _The Way of the Warrior,_ _Indiscretion _and _You Are Cordially Invited_.**

**Please review.**


	31. Chapter Thirty-One: The Recipient

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty-One: The Recipient**_

Data stared at the spacedock as the ship was guided in. _The next time I leave spacedock,_ he thought, _I will be a married man._

The idea exhilarated him. He loved his wife-to-be and he loved the idea of marriage, of a permanent bond between them. Aside from the practical advantages of being able to request joint postings or make decisions for each other in a worst-case scenario, the symbolic bond of marriage had been fascinating to him even before he had emotions. He remembered a discussion he had had with Deanna just before the O'Briens' wedding about the significance of marriage. Now he understood.

He glanced at Tasha, and she caught his eye and smiled. He knew she was thinking the same thing.

xxxxxxxxx

"Data, I've been thinking."

"Uh-oh," he teased.

Tasha gently whacked him on the head. "I was thinking I'd like to expand our wedding party. As Worf's wife, Jadzia is an honorary member of this little family. And Julian and I formed a real bond during our time in the camp. He's become like a younger brother to me."

Data smiled. "I am incapable of saying no to you. Shall we call Deep Space Nine now?"

She leaned over and kissed him before keying up the comm system.

xxxxxxxxx

Julia Paris hugged Tasha tightly. "I can't tell you how happy I am to be a part of this."

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather have stand in for my mother," she replied honestly.

"She'd be proud of you."

Tasha sniffed a little, and Julia held her close. "I know, honey. I know you miss her." She let go of her. "Come on. I want to show you something."

She led Tasha up into the house's attic and pulled a sealed box from the shelf. "I've hung onto this for years. I'm just glad it's good for something besides a treasure."

She unsealed the lid, and Tasha caught a flash of silver as Julia lifted the object out. "What -"

But she cut herself off. The object was a dress. The bodice was pale pink, with silver run through it. The short, puffed sleeves and the skirt - slim but with a train that had to be at least two feet long - were white. Tasha's breath caught in her throat. "Is that -"

"Your mother's wedding gown. She wouldn't settle for replicated; she insisted on finding someone who would sew one for her, and it was one of her most treasured possessions. Your father's apartment was small, so when Eva took it off to get on the transport she asked me to keep it for her. I think she planned to send for it and never got around to it; knowing her it doesn't surprise me. But I know if she could see you she'd want to see you in it. Go on, try it."

Tasha slid out of her uniform and into the dress. It fit her body surprisingly well. She turned slowly, letting Julia see how it fit her. She heard a sharp breath and looked over to see the older woman with tears running down her face.

"Are you all right?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm fine." She forcefully wiped her face. "It's just - you look so much like your mother."

xxxxxxxxx

The red alert sirens blared around them. All the members of the engineering team exchanged looks, many of them concerned. The _Prometheus_ was a prototype of a brand-new class of ship, and this was supposed to be the field test. They had had a few red alert drills, but the ship was lurching now, and they were all hoping it wasn't some sort of major systems failure.

It was the Chief Engineer who got to his feet first. "Engineering to Bridge. What's going on?"

"Two Romulan ships just decloaked," came back a slightly panicked voice. "Took us completely by surprise. See what you can do about the shields and weapons; they're not functioning as well as they should."

"Damn it!" he swore, slamming his fist down on the nearest console before turning to the woman standing behind him. "Lieutenant? We've got a problem with the defensive systems."

"I will attempt to locate the problem." Lieutenant JG Asil was the only person on the ship who wasn't a member of the intended crew for the official launch. As a member of the design team, she had been assigned to the vessel to help with and take note of any technical problems the rather hastily designed ship might encounter. But they hadn't expected to see any action so far from Dominion space, and any glitches in the defensive systems could take more time to fix than they had in an emergency situation.

"Engineering to Bridge! Can you tell me specifically what the problem is?"

"It's taking us about a second too long to get a targeting lock, and the shields have a minimal fluctuation that could become a major problem under continuous fire."

"Acknowledged."

"Lieutenant, see what you can do about the targeting scanners," he shouted over the still-blaring red alert sirens. "I'll look into the problem with the shields."

"Yes, sir."

The ship rocked again, and then a recorded voice came over the system. "Intruder alert, deck fifteen. Intruder alert, deck fifteen."

An Ensign near the weapons locker hurried to it and pulled it open, handing and throwing the phasers to the rest of the team, racing to arm everyone before the Romulans reached Engineering. Asil took hold of a phaser and thumbed the setting up to kill. No one in Starfleet liked the idea of killing, but they also knew that their enemies would have no such qualms and that if they could not bring themselves to do the same they would lose everything.

She ducked beneath a console, holding the weapon at the ready. She could see that the rest of the team was doing the same. The Chief Engineer locked down the door before joining them.

"All right," he said softly, but loud enough to be heard by the everyone on the team. "Now listen up. When the Romulans come in - and we have to assume they will - we have to fight with everything we've got. Shoot to kill, that's an order. There won't be -"

But what there wouldn't be he would never say. There were several loud bangs from the door, and then it was forced open an inch. The entire Engineering team seemed to collectively hold their breath.

Hands slid between the doors and they were pried open. It was impossible to say who fired first, but all at once, all of engineering was caught up in a firefight. The Engineering team did their best to hold their own, but there were a total of ten of them and the Romulans seemed to just keep coming.

The ship lurched again and Asil was sent flying across the room, her weapon knocked from her grasp. She managed to roll out of it, ending up crouched under a station against the wall.

Huddling into the wall, she took stock of the situation. The firefight was decreasing in intensity, but a look showed that this wasn't a good thing for her at all. Most of the engineering team was down; she had to presume they were dead. A few shots were being fired by the remainder of the crew, but they were heavily outnumbered. The Chief Engineer was firing almost wildly from behind a console, but he was pinned down and didn't have long. Asil had no way to reach her own weapon without being seen, and to try even that, let alone to engage the Romulans, would be to get herself killed as well. There was no room for sentimentality in this situation. In order to have any chance of retaking the ship, she had to survive.

Her mind hurriedly ran over the schematics of the ship until she was able to find what she was looking for - an access crawl-way only a few meters from her position. Never taking her eyes off of the Romulans, she slid carefully along the wall until she felt the hatch under her back. Under cover of the sounds of weapons fire still ringing out, she pulled the hatch open and crawled inside, pulling it shut behind her and locking it.

She crawled hurriedly along it until she got to a junction she judged was far enough from her point of entry and deep enough inside the network to keep her from being picked up in a cursory sweep. Then she set about the problem of keeping herself from being detected.

It would be too much to hope they wouldn't scan the ship to make sure no one was left alive. Getting rid of her combadge wouldn't be enough to fool the sensors, and erasing her lifesign from the computer could be detected. Her mind quickly came to another solution. Pulling a pin from her hair, she began to tweak her combadge.

For all the differences in behavior, Romulans and Vulcans were only a dozen or so generations separated and were more alike than unlike when it came to genetics. It was delicate work, but she knew she could reconfigure her combadge to distort her bio-signature. Not enough to hide her completely, but enough to make the computer read her as Romulan.

xxxxxxxxx

"So how did you want to set this up?" Julia asked her.

"Well." Tasha crossed the yard. "I was thinking we could set up a sort of archway about here, under these trees." She indicated two cherry trees with large pink blossoms. "Facing it this way, we can set up the chairs over here with an aisle down the middle."

"What are you doing with the bridesmaid's dresses?" Julia asked.

She pursed her lips for a long moment, thinking it over. "The cherry blossoms are that pretty shade of dark pink, and there's pink in my mother's dress. A bright shade of pink is out because one of my bridesmaids is a redhead, but what about a sort of burgundy-pink?"

"It's your decision," she said, smiling, "but for what it's worth, I think it would work wonderfully." She started back towards the now-empty house and Tasha followed. "When does your wedding party get here?"

"Beverly, Deanna, Geordi, Will, and Joey are on Earth now, and so is the Captain. Jim should be here tomorrow, and the Deep Space Nine group - that's everyone else but my Maid of Honor - is coming in the day after. Asil's on a brief mission, expected back the day before the rehearsal dinner. With your permission, I wanted to use the house for the wedding party and their immediate families - including you, the Admiral, and Kathleen and Moira's families, of course." A small smile danced on her lips. "I'm afraid that does mean putting up with Deanna's mother."

Julia sighed theatrically, but she laughed. "We'll manage. When is she expected?"

"Also tomorrow, I think. And Data's mother and her husband are getting in tonight, and Kate Pulaski will be commuting back and forth until the night before the wedding. The guests are coming in all over the calender, but they can deal with that themselves, they're staying in hotels."

"I hate to put a damper on things, but do you have a caterer set up?"

"You really think I'd forget something like that? Not only _a_ caterer, _the best_ caterer I could hope for."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"I fully intend for this to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Besides," she grinned, "the more I get done, the less I have left for Lwaxana to try and handle for me."

xxxxxxxxx

Jenna was running across the landing bay before the hatch on the ship was fully open, throwing herself into Julian Bashir the second he came into view. The tall man seemed momentarily stunned at the blonde whirlwind that crashed into him, realized who it was, and lifted her clear off her feet to kiss her firmly on the mouth. Tasha was vaguely aware of Admiral Paris behind her glaring at this public display of affection, but that was driven from her mind at the sight of the rest of the crowd.

She embraced Ben Sisko warmly. "I was worried you wouldn't be able to come."

"The wormhole aliens aren't letting Dominion ships through the wormhole, so DS9 is relatively quiet right now. If anything does happen short of a large-scale disaster, Major Kira can handle it."

"That I don't doubt." Tasha liked the Bajoran woman, and few would deny that she was a good person to have at your side in the heart of a major conflict.

"Come here, there's someone I want you to meet. Tasha Yar, Kassidy Yates. Kassidy, this is the bride."

The woman looked a little hesitant, but Tasha shook her hand warmly. She figured Kassidy was aware that she had once been in a relationship with Ben, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that the two of them were very much in love. "It's good to meet you."

"Hello."

Tasha looked down towards the source of the voice, which was coming from around her midsection. A small, dark-haired girl stood next to her. "Well, hello there. Are you Molly?"

The child's face split into a grin. "How do you know?"

Tasha lifted the little girl into her arms. "I knew you when you were just a little baby."

"I'm not a baby anymore."

"I know. I wouldn't have asked a baby to be the flower girl in my wedding."

The smile widened so much Tasha thought it might split her face in half. "Are you the one who's getting married?"

"You bet."

"Excuse me, Captain." Miles O'Brien had appeared on the platform pretty much out of nowhere. "Have you seen..."

"Right here, Chief." Tasha handed Molly over to her father. "I assume this is what you lost?"

"Thanks. Molly, we don't know this place. Stay close to Mommy or me until we tell you you can run around."

"Okay, Daddy."

Tasha was nearly bowled over at that point by Jadzia. Worf stood nearby, looking vaguely exasperated with but resigned to his wife's displays. Tasha managed to get herself untangled and nodded a greeting to Worf, resisting the urge to embrace her Klingon friend.

Julian stepped forward to embrace her too, tailed closely by Jenna. "I just want you to know," he said softly, "it means a lot to me, you asking me to be part of this."

"You're part of this family," she told him, never letting up her embrace. She became uncomfortably aware of Admiral Paris' eyes boring into her back.

So it wasn't about the kiss. It was about Julian.

xxxxxxxxx

"Tasha, can I have a word?"

She turned to the Admiral. "Of course. What's this about?"

"Doctor Bashir. How much do you know about him?"

"What?" she asked, momentarily taken aback.

"All I'm saying is that you may not know him as well as you think you do."

"Sir, with all due respect, what are you getting at?"

"I shouldn't be telling you this, it's not official knowledge, so don't tell anyone I told you, but I really think you have a right to know. He's not - he's _unnatural._ Genetically engineered."

He saw her jaw drop. "How do you know?"

"There was a doctor, Dr. Zimmerman, who did a little background research and uncovered it. Bashir's father agreed to take the fall so his son could avoid being kicked out of Starfleet, but most of the Admiralty knows. We were the ones who offered his father the bargain."

"How kind of you," she said icily.

He studied her keenly for a moment. "You knew, didn't you?"

She nodded, not seeing any point in denying it. "In my mind, it doesn't matter. Look, if anyone has problems, in my opinion it's Dr. Zimmerman. What right does he have to dig up dirt on Bashir and forward it to the Admiralty?"

"Tasha, genetic engineering -"

"If there had been any problems, they would have showed themselves before now. Zimmerman wouldn't have had to dig into his history to find out. And for my sake if nothing else, please don't mention a word of this to Julian."

xxxxxxxxx

Asil crawled along the Jeffries tube, headed towards Sickbay. She had found and vaporized the body of one dead Romulan, just in case they tried to take count of their own crew. It would not be logical to allow her plan to fall victim to such a simple error.

She couldn't check the computer to see how many crew were on board lest she chance being discovered. It was possible the Romulans had not killed the medical staff, and it was also possible and even likely that injured crew would have made their way to Sickbay. She had to set it up as a sort of command center.

Pulling her phaser from her belt, she pushed the hatch open slightly. There were definitely voices, but a quick evaluation suggested they were human. And what they were saying hardly sounded like combat talk.

"I'm afraid you don't have that luxury," one was saying, a voice that she believed she might have heard somewhere once but didn't immediately recognize. "There are two ships at stake here, yours and mine! Now, I need to know more about what's happening. Is the Federation at war with the Romulans?"

"No," replied the other, and Asil recognized the voice as the ship's emergency medical hologram. That meant the doctor was most likely dead, but it also meant someone was there to activate it. "The Romulans haven't gotten involved in our fight with the Dominion."

"The who?"

_Surprising_, Asil thought, _it would be difficult _not_ to know about the Dominion in this time._

The EMH, for his part, seemed to be trying to figure out how to explain over a year's worth of conflict in a few seconds, then gave up. "Long story."

"In any case we need to take control of this situation."

"I'm a doctor, not a commando!" the EMH protested.

"It's time you became a little of both," the other replied, unfazed.

If they were talking this freely, chances were there were no Romulans present. As silently as she could, she opened the hatch and stood up.

And found herself face-to-face with a balding man who was staring at her. "Who are you?"

The EMH turned to face her, then spun back to face his companion accusingly. "You said there were no Starfleet crew left alive!"

"There weren't. At least the computer said there weren't."

"I re-wired my combadge to emit a distortion field so the computer would read my lifesign as Romulan. Your experience seems to suggest that it worked."

"How can I know that you're not Romulan?"

"I told you," the EMH said exasperatedly. "I can identify each member of this crew." He examined her for a moment. "Lieutenant Asil, Starfleet Engineering Corps, a member of the senior design team of the _Prometheus_, assigned to this test run to observe and assist with any design or technical problems."

Asil, meanwhile, had finally figured out who he was. "You are an EMH Mark 1," she stated. "You are not a part of this ship's system. State your purpose aboard this ship."

The Mark 1 gave an exaggerated, and very human, sigh. "As I was just explaining, I was sent here through an alien sensor network from a ship in the Delta Quadrant."

"There are no Starfleet ships in the Delta Quadrant."

He rolled his eyes, another very human trait that Asil had to wonder why the designer would have included. "We didn't end up there on purpose. We were transported to the Delta Quadrant by an alien entity four years ago. I was sent to make contact with the Federation and inform them of this fact, but of course I managed to end up on a ship that had been taken over by Romulans!"

By this point, Asil's tricorder was in her hand and she was scanning the holographic man. If he wasn't what he said he was, whoever had programmed him had done such a perfect job as to make it indistinguishable. It was illogical to assume that some alien race, or even the Romulans, could have made such a precise imitation. That left only one option; however improbable the story, it was the truth.

"We will need to regain control of the ship," she informed them without preamble.

"That's what I said," the Mark 1 broke in.

She turned to face him. "What did you have in mind?"

He frowned. "I'm afraid my plan won't work anymore."

"Explain it in any case. Perhaps I can modify it."

"Well, I had thought that we could use some sort of anesthetic gas, put it into the ventilation system. But if we do that now, we'll lose a third of our crew."

"Not necessarily." She turned to the Mark 2 EMH. "Do you have portable oxygen in stock?"

"Of course."

"I will take an oxygen tank and a mask." She stepped over to the computer console. "It appears that the only point of access for environmental controls is the operations console on the bridge. We will need to find a way to unlock it remotely."

"Maybe not."

Asil turned back to the Mark 1. "Explain."

"When he was brought in," the balding hologram indicated an unconscious Romulan on the bio-bed, "I pretended I was this ship's EMH. I could try to go to the bridge on a medical pretense and try to unlock the ventilation system."

She nodded. "Good. Mark 2, you will need to go to environmental control. When Mark 1 releases the lockout, you will need to release the anesthetic into the ventilation system. I will go to the transporter room and beam all life-forms other than my own into the brig. When that is done, I will call Mark 2 who will purge the ventilation system. I will transfer Mark 2 to the bridge and then transport myself there as well. Understood?"

"Understood, Lieutenant," they both said at once.

Accepting the oxygen apparatus from Mark 2, she crawled into the Jeffries Tube and made for the nearest transporter room. She sat behind the panel and waited.

And waited.

Had they failed? Had one or both of the holograms been captured? She dared not contact them lest she expose herself if they had been.

Then she heard it - the hiss of the gas in the ventilation system. The mask which had been hanging around her neck was instantly moved up to her mouth and nose, strapped into place. She crawled through the hatch, removing her combadge and setting it aside. She pushed aside the Romulan slumped over the console and set it for Romulan lifesigns. The three Romulans in the transporter room all shimmered and disappeared.

"Computer." Her voice was distorted by the mask. "How many Romulans are present on the ship outside the brig?"

"No Romulans present in specified locations."

"Asil to Mark 2. It worked. Begin purge."

"Acknowledged." There was a hint of a smirk in his voice. "Beginning purge now." After a few moments, his voice came through the system again. "Purge complete."

"I am transferring you to the bridge. Stand by." Accessing the holo-emitters, she sent both doctors to the bridge before removing her mask and leaving it on the floor, programming the transporter on delay and jumping onto the pad.

"The end!" was the first thing she heard when she materialized on the bridge. "You know, you really ought to keep a personal log. Why bore others needlessly?"

"Enough arguing," she said before Mark 2 could reply to the insult. "We need to stop this ship and return it to the Federation." She bent over the navigational console. She was an adequate pilot at best, and only a few people had been trained to fly this ship. Again, she called to mind the schematics. She had had little part in designing the helm systems, but she had seen the plans and she drew on them now to remember how the control panel worked. Then, the image of the schematics still in her mind, she disengaged the warp engines.

"We will need to repair the ship as quickly as possible. You two, remain with me. I may need your assistance."

"I'm a doctor," Mark 2 protested, "not an engineer."

"I will explain exactly what I need you to do, I will merely need you to perform actions." She made a mental note to discuss with the designer the possibility of including basic subroutines into future EMH programs that would allow them to assist with basic ship's functions in the event of the ship being understaffed. "We will begin -"

A beeping sound interrupted her. Mark 1 reached the beeping console first, and an expression of dismay crossed his face. "Oh no."

"What?" Mark 2 was only a step behind him.

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, and for once I sincerely hope I am, there are three Romulan warbirds on an intercept course."

"Do either of you have any programming related to piloting?"

"I've had my share of piloting experience." Mark 1 squirmed a little before admitting, "well, actually it was only two lessons. And they were in a shuttlecraft. On the holodeck. But I showed great intuition."

It made logical sense, she supposed. If he was telling the truth about being from a ship lost in the Delta Quadrant, and she had no reason to believe otherwise, it stood to reason that the crew would have trained him. They would not have a way to acquire more crew in the event that someone was killed, so anyone, including the EMH, would have to be prepared to step up if needed. "Take the helm." As he slid into the seat, she quickly explained the console. "Thruster control, impulse engines, warp drive."

"Right."

"Mark 2, take the other station and be prepared to take whatever actions are necessary. I will need to perform repairs. Engineering, transfer to bridge, authorization Asil Zeta Five Two Nine."

A beep of affirmation answered her, and she hurriedly crossed the bridge to the engineering console. This sort of thing had its limitations in a way that working in Engineering would not, but she had no time to reach Engineering, nor did she believe that leaving the two holographic doctors on the bridge alone was advisable.

She heard a chime, and then a voice came over the comm. "_This is the warbird _T'Met_ calling the _Prometheus."

A long silence, then she heard Mark 1's voice."This is the _Prometheus_."

"_Activate your viewscreen._"

"Our viewscreen is not operational." There was a hint of hesitancy in his voice, but he sounded confident. "We've had some trouble with Starfleet commandos."

"_Where's Rikar?_"

"In the medical bay. He was injured."

"_Who is this?_"

There was a moderately long pause, then she heard Mark 2 whisper "you first."

"You first." Asil turned in time to see Mark 1 cringe at what he had said.

"_Repeat your last statement. I don't understand._"

"State your identity." At least he had recovered quickly.

"_This is Sub-Commander Almak. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded._"

"They're already down. Maybe there's something wrong with your sensor readings. You'd better not try to transport until we can be sure it's safe." It was not a particularly opaque argument, but there was nothing that would be more effective readily available.

"_Lower your shields immediately or I'll open fire._"

"Immediately? Yes. _Prometheus_ out."

It would have been illogical to be surprised that their ship was almost immediately fired on.

**Cliffhanger, hehe. I know, I'm evil, but I'm also nice because I gave you this now instead of making you wait even longer.**

**This chapter is heavily based on the Voyager episode _Message in a Bottle_, and also references the DS9 episode _Dr. Bashir, I Presume_.**

**Please review.**


	32. Chapter ThirtyTwo: Surprise Wedding Gift

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty-Two: Surprise Wedding Gift**_

"Still no word on your maid of honor?"

Tasha jumped. Julia smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"That's all right. I was zoned out. And no, not exactly."

"Classified information?"

"Unfortunately." Tasha had been briefed on the situation with the _Prometheus_ by Admiral Paris, who knew she had a personal connection and saw no reason not to inform her, considering she had a more than adequate security clearance. Unfortunately, he could only tell her what they knew, which wasn't much. The _Prometheus _had come under attack and been boarded by Romulans. That had been the crew's last contact with Starfleet, but several minutes later the Starfleet ships sent to assist had been attacked by the _Prometheus_ itself, suggesting the Romulans had taken over. More Starfleet ships were pursuing, but the _Prometheus_' design had ended up working against them; because it was able to move faster than any ship in the fleet, their ships would not be able to intercept as long as the captured ship was at maximum warp.

"Maybe you should consider who you want to have perform that part in the ceremony if she can't be here," Julia suggested gently.

"No." Tasha knew Julia was probably surprised that she was so forceful, but the woman didn't know the circumstances. Giving up on Asil, as far as Tasha was concerned, would be more than giving up the idea of her perfect wedding. It would mean accepting that her little sister might be dead. "Not unless we get to the morning of the wedding and she's still not here."

The older woman, for her part, didn't ask any questions. "How is everything else working out?"

Grateful for the change in subject, Tasha went into a long, detailed explanation about the catering menu.

xxxxxxxxx

The ship lurched again, and Asil didn't have to wait long for Mark 2 to tell her what had happened. "Direct hit. Shields down to twenty percent."

"Three more ships are approaching," Mark 1 announced.

"We're doomed," Mark 2 moaned.

"No," the other hologram replied. "They're Starfleet."

Asil was ready to point out the logical flaw in his assumption of salvation, but it turned out to be unnecessary. The ship rocked again, and this time the fire didn't come from the Romulans.

"What are they doing?" Mark 2 asked

"Firing on us!" Mark 1 realized.

"They must think Romulans are on board."

"They're right!"

Asil didn't join this conversation. She was still trying to get the systems back to full function. The repeated weapons fire wasn't helping.

"_Prometheus_ to any Starfleet vessel. Respond!" Mark 2 yelled frantically into the comm system.

"It's no use, they can't hear us. The Romulans have scrambled the comm. frequencies." Mark 1 turned around. "Lieutenant?"

"I will address it when I have the time. I must first restore the defensive systems."

"Some...thing just went offline," Mark 2 reported as the ship began to tremble.

"Specifically?" Mark 1 preempted the question Asil had intended to ask.

"The secondary gyrodyne relays in the propulsion field inter-matrix have depolarized."

"In English!" Mark 1 protested.

"No need, I understand," she replied. "Attempting to bypass. Transferring auxiliary power to the maneuvering thrusters." The ship stopped shaking.

"You'd better get to tactical," Mark 1 told Mark 2. "We're going to have to defend ourselves."

"Tactical. Right."

"What are you waiting for?" He yelled impatiently. "Shoot. Shoot!"

"There are so many controls." Mark 2 sounded daunted.

Mark 1 wasn't. "Find the one that says fire and push it!"

"It's not working. It says here the phasers are offline."

"The relays are fused," Asil reported after a quick check. "Attempting to bypass."

"Then fire a torpedo!" Mark 1 suggested.

Before Asil could tell him, even in brief, how to aim, he had followed Mark 1's instruction. As she watched, the torpedo spun off on an unclear course, missing a Romulan Warbird by a few scant meters and impacting on the shield of a _Defiant_-class ship.

"You hit the wrong ship," Mark 1 informed him.

"It wasn't my fault!" Mark 2 protested.

"Well then whose fault was it, the torpedo's? You're supposed to tell it what to do!" Another hit. "Navigational control is offline."

"Everything is offline," Mark 2 moaned, though Asil didn't need to hear this; the readout was right in front of her. "Weapons, shields."

"It gets worse," Mark 1 replied. "There are two warbirds coming right at us!"

"My brilliant existence cut short," Mark 2 said to no one in particular. "No time to explore the universe, no time to smell the roses, no time for sex."

But Asil knew the ship still had one trick left. She hadn't wanted to engage it if they had any choice left; this system was untested, and many of the "bugs", as Captain Scott called them, had not yet been repaired. But the Romulans had tried the system before, and nothing major had gone wrong. While additional uses of the procedure would strain the systems, she had to assume if it had held together once it would do so again.

Abandoning the engineering station, she ran to the helm, pushing Mark 2 out of the way. The helm control had been scrambled by the multiple malfunctions, but she found what she was looking for.

"_Initiating decoupling sequence_," the computer intoned.

"What's that?" Mark 2 asked.

"_Auto-separation in ten seconds_."

"Auto-separation?" Mark 1 replied. "I think the Romulans did this before."

"Sit down," she told Mark 2, indicating the other seat at the front console before stepping back to seat herself in the Captain's chair.

"_Five. Four. Three. Two._"

"Brace yourselves," she warned, firmly gripping the arms of the chair.

"_Separation sequence in progress._"

The ship shook violently as the pieces separated - one of the biggest problems still left to correct - but it was over in seconds. The computer voice came through again. "Specify attack pattern."

"Attack pattern Beta-Four," Asil replied instantly. She remembered that programmed sequence as one of the most aggressive, and that would be necessary to dissuade their enemies and prove to Starfleet who was operating the _Prometheus_.

"_Specify target._"

Both holograms preempted her command. "Romulans!"

The four subsections whirled around, targeting the warbirds, weapons firing. One directly hit a warbird in a weak spot, apparently taking them aback.

"Bulls-eye!" Mark 2 crowed triumphantly. "The warbirds are in retreat! Doctor, Lieutenant, we've done it!" He stood on the bridge, puffed up with pride. "Two holograms and one Lieutenant, alone. Romulans on one side, Starfleet on the other. Alarms beeping everywhere!"

"EMH Mark 2," Mark 1 chimed in, "newborn but filled with courage."

"EMH Mark 1," Mark 2 took it up again, "armed with years of experience."

"And a Vulcan Lieutenant," Mark 1 added, favoring her with a gentle smile, the first she'd seen from him, "inexperienced in deep space missions but more knowledgeable about the ship than either of the others. Together they emerged triumphant."

"The end," Mark 2 finished, just as several alarms beeped. "Or not."

Two figures began to materialize on the bridge, weapons drawn. Asil put her hand on her weapon but didn't draw it. She could see even as they began to materialize that they were Starfleet, most likely Starfleet security, and she had no desire to provoke them. They were only armed because they had no idea what they would find.

It was Mark 1 who spoke first. "Welcome to the _Prometheus_, gentlemen. It's about time."

They seemed to realize they were among friends; their weapons came down and their defensive postures were relaxed. The superior of the two, a Lieutenant Commander, turned to her. "Report, Lieutenant."

"The crew is dead, sir," she replied somberly, "myself excluded. The ship is substantially damaged. The Romulan insurgents are in the brig."

His eyes darted to the two Doctors, and she hastened to explain. "Holograms. This one," she nodded towards Mark 2, "is this ship's Emergency Medical Hologram. And this Emergency Medical Hologram," she indicated Mark 1, "claims to have been transmitted onto this ship from a Starfleet ship lost in the Delta Quadrant."

He looked at Mark 1, skepticism written all over his face. "That's quite a distance to get lost over."

"We were pulled into the Delta Quadrant four years ago by an alien entity. Captain Janeway made the decision -"

"Janeway?" Asil interrupted before she could stop herself. "The Starship _Voyager_?"

"That's right." Mark 1 nodded.

"What can you tell me about _Voyager_, Lieutenant?" the Commander asked.

"The starship _Voyager_ last made contact with Starfleet on Stardate 48315.6 before entering the Badlands in pursuit of a Maquis ship that had also disappeared, which was carrying a Starfleet operative." Considering that nearly all the Maquis were dead thanks to the Dominion's alliance with Cardassia, this information was no longer considered classified. "It was classified as missing after failing to return to base or report in after its scheduled mission time elapsed. Fourteen months ago, after all searches failed, _Voyager _was classified as officially lost, and the entire crew as dead."

The commander turned back to Mark 1. "But you're saying that rather than being destroyed, this alien entity pulled _Voyager _into the Delta Quadrant."

"That's right."

"For what purpose?"

"I'm not entirely sure. No one thought to share those exact details with me. I believe, however, that it had something to do with trying to find a compatible mate to reproduce. We've been trying to get home ever since."

"Doctor," Asil drew his focus back to herself, "what of the Maquis ship they were pursuing? Were they also drawn into the Delta Quadrant?"

He nodded. "After the Maquis ship was destroyed, Captain Janeway merged the ship's crew with her own. Com - Chakotay, the Maquis ship's captain, became her first officer after Commander Cavit was killed when the ship was first transported to the Delta Quadrant. In fact, my own initial activation was under similar circumstances, when the medical staff were killed by an explosion during the same transition. I can tell you the names of _Voyager_'s crew at this time, as well as the times and methods of death of anyone who has at any time been a member of the crew."

Asil heard all of this, but she didn't fully take in all of it. Her mind was still processing his point about Chakotay being appointed first officer, and she hadn't missed that the EMH had started to refer to him as "Commander". Had Captain Janeway done that in order to facilitate the integration of the Maquis - or had she done it because there was no other viable candidate?

She was saved from having to find a way to pose this question by the junior Security officer. "Why promote a Maquis captain above one of her own people?"

"Commander Chakotay was a respected member of Starfleet before he resigned." Mark 1's voice had taken on a slightly defensive edge. "Captain Janeway believed that promoting him to first officer would create the sense of a unified crew - when the crews first joined, tensions were at a maximum."

That failed to answer her true question.

The Commander turned to his junior officer. "Notify Starfleet Command." As he continued to rattle off orders, Asil pulled Mark 1 aside.

"Doctor, I must ask you something."

He took a long look at her. "Fire away."

She raised her eyebrow a little at the human expression but decided not to argue on semantics. "My father was a member of _Voyager_'s crew when I last had contact with him. I must know if he is alive."

He glanced at her, and a look of realization came across his face. "You're Commander Tuvok's daughter?"

"Lieutenant," she corrected almost automatically.

"Not anymore." He smiled widely. "I suppose that answers your question."

It took all of her self-control not to laugh in sheer relief - or cry, she wasn't sure which. As it was, she knew she was smiling. "I am glad to hear it."

"Lieutenant."

Asil looked up and then left the EMH to join the Commander. "Sir?"

"We're transmitting _Voyager_'s EMH to Starfleet Command. The _Prometheus_ will be remaining here until he's done so we can send him back, and then will probably have to be towed back to base. I know you were due back today. We can't quite do that, but the _Ulysses _is on her way back to Earth and should be there in thirty-eight hours. You're welcome to go aboard."

She nodded. "Thank you." She turned back to the EMH. "Thank _you_, Doctor."

xxxxxxxxx

"You really should grow your hair out longer."

Tasha batted Lwaxana Troi's hands away from her head. "It's impractical for a Security Chief. In any case, I haven't had long hair since I was five. It would be weird to grow it back now. It looks fine."

"Your dress looks nice, in any case."

"I've had it for awhile. Just haven't worn it." The garment had been made for her by the Cardassian tailor Garak as a thank-you gift, but though she had appreciated it she hadn't been able to wear it. Hadn't had a reason to.

"You'll knock your Mr. Data dead." Lwaxana smoothed Tasha's skirt down. "What if we curled your hair?"

She ran her fingers through her shoulder-length blond hair. "You think it would look all right?"

"Only one way to find out. If it doesn't we can wash it out. Do you have any jewelry?"

xxxxxxxxx

Will elbowed Data in the ribs hard enough to leave a bruise on a human body. "Wow. Get a load of that."

Data looked where his friend was looking, and his jaw dropped. "Wow."

"You said it."

Tasha's dress was blue and fell below her knees, though it didn't touch her ankles. It was a medium-blue color with thin straps and an open back down to almost her waist. The skirt moved around her legs in a rippling motion. The neckline was low enough to show a little of her breasts while not revealing so much as to be indecent. Her hair curled above her shoulders. She was wearing flat sandals of the same color and a silver necklace with a small blue stone. Her face was made up.

"How's she doing?"

"Hmm?" Data had to tear his eyes away from his fiancee to answer his Best Man's question. "She is disappointed. She is not much for image, but I know she wanted to see Asil as her Maid of Honor."

Geordi never entirely took his eyes off of the lining up of the wedding party, and more specifically Leah who was standing with the party to keep her son from running amok. Even though he couldn't see her in the traditional sense, he couldn't stop looking at her.

Picard stepped up beside Data. "Are we ready to begin?"

"I believe -"but his attention was drawn by chaos a few dozen meters away. "What is happening?"

xxxxxxxxx

Asil heard the party before she saw it. Lots of voices, music. She had never attended a "rehearsal dinner" before, but from what she saw it was another party before the even larger party she understood was to come after the wedding.

"Who are you?"

Asil stopped, turning to face a flamboyantly-dressed Betazoid woman. "Lieutenant Asil, Starfleet Engineering Corps. And you?"

"Lwaxana Troi, daughter of the Fifth House, heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, and holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx."

Asil wasn't well caught up on Betazoid tradition, but she could tell from the woman's behavior that this was something that would resonate on the woman's homeworld. "Do you know the location of Admiral Paris? I have an important message to deliver to him."

Lwaxana took Asil's shoulders as if to steer her away. "This really isn't a good time."

"This is important," she protested, stepping out of the Betazoid's grip but not raising her voice at all. "I believe he will want to hear this, regardless of the time."

"What's going on up here?" Another woman joined the two. "Who are you?"

Asil got the sense that she would be answering this question a lot until she finally found someone she'd met before. "Lieutenant Asil, Starfleet Engineering Corps. I am attempting to find Admiral Paris."

Her face took on a pained look. "Would you mind terribly coming back later? This is an important moment for my son, I'd really rather not interrupt it."

It took only this small context clue for Asil to be able tell who she was; Juliana Tainer, who had helped Dr. Soong create Data. Tasha had mentioned the scientist in one of her letters. "I am afraid this is important."

By now, a small crowd had formed, though no one Asil recognized. Everyone was in formal civilian wear. For a few moments, she wondered if she was inappropriately dressed for this event.

Then she finally saw a familiar face. Julia Paris seemed to recognize her too; at any rate, her near-sprint came to a full stop. "Oh, it's you."

"Mrs. Paris. It is imperative that I speak with you, your husband, and your daughters immediately."

She looked taken aback but recovered quickly. "Of course. But I think -"

"_Asil_!" The shriek cut across the crowd, who parted to let the bride-to-be come hurtling through and embrace the young Vulcan almost hard enough to knock her over.

Asil returned the hug reservedly, but not coldly. "I need to speak with you as well. I come with important news."

By this point, basically the entire crowd was gathered around. Tasha spotted Data and flagged him down. "I'm sorry to ask this, but can we hold for a few minutes? This sounds important."

Data (_bless him_) didn't ask questions or object. "Of course. I will inform the Captain."

She threw her arms around him, kissing him firmly on the mouth. "God, I love you."

He smiled in response. "I will be waiting."

xxxxxxxxx

"All right, what's going on?"

Tasha and the four Parises had hastily gathered in the house's living room. Asil faced all of them. "I have news to deliver. Important news." She met Julia's eyes. "It concerns your son."

She gasped, and Tasha saw tears in her eyes. "Tom? Is he -" She gulped. "Is it true? Is my boy dead?" A sob escaped her, and she gripped her husband's hand. His eyes were glittering too.

"No," she answered frankly, and everyone gasped so sharply Tasha was surprised there was air left to breathe. "Tom Paris is alive."

"How?" Moira demanded. "Where?"

"Voyager was dragged into the Delta Quadrant by an alien entity that was not able to return them. They have been on a return journey ever since. They sent their emergency medical hologram to the _Prometheus_ by way of a sensor net three days ago to make contact with Starfleet." She turned to the Admiral. "The detailed report will be given to you when you next report to work. This was merely a message given to you as a person with a direct interest."

She faced the whole room now. "Starfleet requests that you not share this information until _Voyager_'s situation is publicly announced so that the families of the dead can be informed before the news becomes public."

"No, of course we won't say anything." Julia gave a soft gasp. Tears were running down her face. "Thank you."

Julia embraced her husband, and both of their daughters joined them, giving Asil a chance to pull Tasha aside. "I have an additional message for you." She looked down for a moment before admitting, "I am not supposed to tell you this, but I believe you have a right to know in a way Starfleet would not understand. The Maquis ship that they were pursuing encountered the same entity, and her crew was merged with _Voyager_'s."

"Our father?" she asked eagerly, completely understanding what her sister was getting at, praying silently that it wasn't bad news. As well as she could read people, and as well as she knew the other girl, the Vulcan stoicism could still throw her, and there was a chance Asil could be concealing bad news without giving a hint of it on her face.

"Alive and well," she replied, and Tasha nearly wept with relief. "And promoted to Lieutenant Commander."

She nodded again and smiled. "That's good to hear."

Asil looked down briefly again. "I believe, under the circumstances, that if you wanted to tell your future husband, it would be, how do you say, close enough?"

Tasha smiled even more broadly. "Let's go get you dressed."

xxxxxxxxx

"Where are we going?" Tasha said for what felt like the hundredth time.

But Deanna continued to tug at her hand. "You'll see. Come on."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she allowed Deanna to pull her up yet another flight of stairs to the top floor of the house. She stopped at a door Tasha knew led to a large room that usually became the children's playroom at Christmas. "Why are we up here again?"

Without answering, Deanna tapped on the door. It was Julia's voice than answered. "Come in!"

Deanna slid the door open and pushed Tasha in ahead of her. She had only a moment to take in the decorated room before several people yelled "surprise!" and confetti was thrown in her face.

Tasha stumbled backwards in surprise. "What - what's this?" Brushing the confetti out of her eyes, she could see that a multitude of people were assembled there; Julia, Lwaxana, Beverly, Jenna, Juliana, Lal, Keiko O'Brien with Molly on her lap, her grandmother, Kate, Moira, and Kathleen. Asil stood off to one side, as quiet and unemotional as ever. "What's going on here?"

"It's a bridal shower, of course!" Deanna's eyes were glittering. "You didn't think we'd let you get married without one, did you?"

Multiple questions rushed through her mind. The one that came to her lips first was "Where's Data?"

"Don't worry," Jadzia assured her. "The guys have him. They're throwing him a party of their own. Now come on, come open your presents."

"Presents?" Tasha hadn't even noticed the pile of gifts on a table. Deanna and Jadzia all but dragged her over to it, and the others gathered around.

"All right." She picked up one at random. "Who's this one from?"

"Me!" Molly raised her hand, jumping up and down.

Tasha smiled. "Well, okay then."

She removed from the box a pair of teddy bears, magnetically connected at the lips. Keiko smiled a little apologetically. "I wasn't sure it was appropriate, but she found it in the replicator files and couldn't be talked out of it."

But Tasha was grinning. "No, no, I love it!"

xxxxxxxxx

By the time she had finished, she had accumulated a rather substantial pile of gifts, from a collection of floral fragrances from Keiko, ever the botanist, to a set of family heirloom candlesticks from her grandmother, to a collection of genuine hardcover books from Asil, who had clearly been let in on the plan at some point, though how she'd found time to replicate them without Tasha noticing only she knew.

The party had gone on for over three hours before it broke up. As the rest of the guests left, Lwaxana pulled Tasha aside, waiting until she was the only person in the room before handing her a small wrapped package.

"Don't think I'd forgotten about you. Something to wear with that beautiful wedding dress."

She slid the paper off and revealed a small jewelry box. Inside was a silver necklace with a pennant containing a small crystal. It was pretty, but nothing special, certainly not what she'd come to expect from such a woman, and nothing that merited been given apart from the other gifts.

"It's very nice. Thank you."

But Lwaxana was beaming. "It's a new sort of Betazoid technology. Press the crystal."

Slightly baffled now, she pressed the small center crystal with her index finger. An image appeared, floating above the pennant. The image of a baby.

Tasha hadn't seen this particular image in years, but it was one she could never forget. A lump rose to her throat, and she swiped at the tears in her eyes. "How...?"

"As I said," she replied gently, "a new technology. It integrates with the telepathic centers of a Betazoid's brain, and transcribes specific images into holograms. It's still in its early stages, but I thought this was quite a successful test, don't you?"

Tasha couldn't speak. She just stared at the tiny picture, revolving slowly in her hand.

Lwaxana's hand cupped over hers, lifting the box out of her hand and carefully clipping the chain around her neck. "Now you can keep her close to your heart."

She threw her arms around the older woman's neck, embracing her tightly. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

xxxxxxxxx

"Well, Doctor?"

The entire senior staff was staring at their holographic friend, waiting to hear the details of his latest away mission. He had told the Captain that he had spoken to Starfleet and relayed the official message, but as soon as word got out that he had said something about Romulans, the crew demanded more. As usual, he was more than happy to oblige.

"The computer told me the entire crew was dead," he said, enjoying having them hanging on his every word. "My fellow EMH wasn't being very cooperative. Then the Sickbay hatch opened..." he paused for effect.

"A Romulan?" Neelix gasped.

"No," he replied, relishing the looks on their faces. "A member of the crew."

"But you said they were all dead," Harry Kim reminded him.

"No, Ensign," Tuvok corrected. "The computer sensors were not able to detect living Starfleet crew. A highly competent officer who managed to escape an initial battle could also find a way to make themselves undetectable to the sensors."

The Doctor nodded, wondering what Tuvok would say when he realized who that "highly competent officer" was. "Precisely so. This particular crewmember was Vulcan, and had set her combadge to emit a distortion signal, causing the computer to misread her as Romulan."

"Genius," B'Elanna breathed. "Engineer?"

"Exactly. She helped us work out a plan to take down the Romulans - my idea, really." He puffed up with pride. "We anesthetized the entire ship, while she used an oxygen mask to prevent herself from experiencing the effects. Then we beamed them all into the brig and purged the environmental system." He paused for a moment before admitting, "That last part was her idea. Then we managed to get the ship stopped, but we were attacked by another party of Romulans, and then by Starfleet ships that thought the ship was under Romulan control. We - she - managed to activate a particular defensive system and attack the Romulans, which convinced Starfleet that we were on their side."

"Sounds like you got lucky," Tom commented. "Who was this mysterious engineer out of nowhere anyway?"

"Well, I suppose I should have realized. It's perfectly clear in hindsight."

"Doctor, you have failed to answer the question," Tuvok pointed out. "Who was she?"

He turned to Tuvok with a beaming smile. "Your daughter."

**Next chapter, we finally get the official wedding! But one person's life just got a lot more complicated. Guesses will be appreciated but not confirmed or denied except by the chapter. (If the one reviewer I've discussed my plans with could please not use the review feature to blow the surprise so it can be a legitimate surprise for everyone else, that would be much appreciated.) Also, the Doctor and Tuvok have a conversation.**

**Please review.**


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three: I Always Will

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty-Three: I Always Will  
><strong>_

Tasha's hands were shaking so badly she could barely fasten the back of her dress. Kate Pulaski finally took over and did the back up herself.

Someone tapped on the door. "You girls decent in here?"

Tasha glanced around at all the women in the room they had converted into a makeshift changing room. "Yeah, Geordi, everyone's decent. What's up?"

"Just a heads-up." He wasn't alone; he had a small, curly-haired boy on each arm. "Leah's not coming."

"What? Why?" But even as the words left her lips, Tasha knew why. After returning home the previous night, Leah would have learned one of two things. Either she had officially heard that her husband was dead, in which case the last thing she would want to do was attend a wedding, or he was alive, in which case she would need time to process this radical change.

"I don't know. But she said she wanted to talk to me when I brought the boys back."

Tasha looked into the Carey boys' beaming faces. They had no idea of what had just happened, whatever that was. "All right. Thanks for letting me know."

"You almost ready? I know Data's been in his tux for half an hour."

Tasha grinned. "Tell them to start getting set up."

xxxxxxxxx

Data stood at the altar, watching as people walked down the aisle. Molly O'Brien and little Joe Carey, adorably walking side by side. Keiko O'Brien. Jadzia Dax. His own daughter. Beverly. Deanna. The young Vulcan that Tasha considered a sister.

And then he saw her, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. Since the first time his emotion chip had been activated, he had thought she was the most beautiful woman in the galaxy, but she completely, as humans would say, blew his mind in this moment. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she walked towards him on her uncle's arm.

The dress looked perfect on her, and the small part of his mind that was still very mechanical contemplated how much like her mother she must have looked for that to be possible. Her hair had been curled much as the night before, and a wreath of silk flowers was set on it.

Dave gently handed her off to Data and took a seat in the front row. She took his arm, and they walked together to stand before their Captain, who was beaming. "Since the days of the first wooden sailing ships, all captains have enjoyed the happy privilege of joining together two people in the bonds of matrimony. You have written your own vows?"

That had been Data's idea, and Tasha had agreed readily. Everything about their relationship was unique, why not this? He spoke for both of them. "We have."

"Speak them now."

Data turned to his bride, staring into her blue eyes. "Since the first time I met you, I knew you were special, that you would have great meaning in my life. My expectations were exceeded, and every day I am more pleased with that than the last. You have shared with me the most wonderful days of my life, and been there for me on the most difficult. I, Data, take you, Natasha Yar, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish above all others until death do us part."

Tasha met his eyes squarely. "You understood me at a time when very few people did. They said you couldn't feel, that you weren't human, but when I looked into your eyes, and watched how you perceived the world, I thought you were the most human person I had ever known. You've supported me through the worst days of my life, and shared my joy on the best. I, Natasha Yar, take you, Data, for better or for worse, to love and cherish above all others until death do us part."

Over Data's shoulder, she saw Geordi signal his girlfriend's four-year-old son, who stepped forward with the small, decorative box bearing the rings. Data took it from him and removed the smaller of the two wedding bands, which were white gold with a tiny sapphire ribbon run through it. He slid off her engagement ring and put the wedding band on her, then slid her engagement ring back over it before handing the box to her so she could remove his ring and place it on his finger, then handed the box back to the wide-eyed boy.

"By the power vested in me by the United Federation of Planets, I pronounce you husband and wife." He smiled even wider. "Well, Mr. Data, what are you waiting for? Kiss your bride."

He obliged, nearly lifting her clean off the ground as he kissed her passionately while the crowd cheered. As they broke apart, Tasha became aware that large numbers of small objects were pelting them, and she realized they were grains of rice. It only took one glance at Will's laughing face as they began to walk down the aisle to figure out who was responsible.

xxxxxxxxx

_Ding! Ding!_

The crowd noise died down as Geordi tapped his glass with his spoon. He smiled, setting the spoon down but keeping the glass in his hand.

"The happy couple you see here," he began softly, "are two of the best friends I've ever been fortunate enough to have. Data, it's been ten years since we first met, and that instant connection we formed has lasted to this day." He swallowed as though trying not to cry. "Plain and simple, you're the brother I never had. Tasha Yar, you were one of the first people to look past the VISOR and really see me, and in doing that you gave me a gift I can never forget or repay." He raised his glass. "To the bride and groom."

The assembled crowd raised their glasses in the toast, and Geordi sat down. Asil stood then, quietly, not calling attention to herself as Geordi had, waiting for them to notice her, which eventually they did.

"Tasha assured me that I need not speak if I did not want to. But this is too important of an occasion for me to do otherwise." She glanced over at Tasha. "I would be remiss if I did not mention that this woman is possibly the reason I am alive today, because she risked her own safety to keep me safe. But that is not the end of it. You have been my mentor, my supporter, my friend, and most importantly my sister." She raised her glass as Geordi had. "As you say on earth, I wish you all the best."

"All the best," Deanna repeated, raising her glass. The others joined in, and then Data offered his arm to his new wife, leading her to the dance floor as their chosen song began to play.

_Love me tender  
>Love me sweet<br>Never let me go  
>You have made my life complete<br>And I love you so_

_Love me tender  
>Love me true<br>All my dreams fulfilled  
>For my darling, I love you<br>And I always will_

The song, like much of what they had elected to play at the wedding, was from the twentieth century music collection that had gotten a significant boost after their visit to Zephram Cochrane, who had been only too happy to supply them with several thousand songs which they were able to download from a data storage device. Data had shuffled through to find a series of appropriate options, and then run them by Tasha to come up with final options.

As they started in on the second verse, she realized Data was singing along. She smiled and laid her head on his chest. At this moment, life seemed perfect.

xxxxxxxxx

Data smiled at his mother as he stepped away from her at the conclusion of their mother-son dance, heading back to his bride as the music changed to a faster tune and people began to dance, swinging her out onto the floor just as the recorded voice of the long-dead Roy Orbison began to sing.

_Every time I look into your loving eyes  
>I see a love that money just can't buy<br>One look from you, I drift away  
>I pray that you are here to stay<em>

_Anything you want, you got it  
>Anything you need, you got it<br>Anything at all, you got it  
>Baby<em>

As they danced, she glanced around the room. Will and Deanna, a tentative couple at best, were dancing together. Captain Picard was dancing with Beverly. She laughed when she saw Worf, looking for all the world like he wanted people to think he was resistant, but not like he actually was, as he swung his wife around. Ben was dancing with Kassidy. Geordi, short his partner of choice, was dancing with Lal. A group of eight or ten young kids was dancing in a circle.

The song ended and another couples song started. A few people cleared off the floor, but Tasha was pleasantly surprised to see that Will, Deanna, Beverly, and Picard all stayed. Then Data pulled her close, and she couldn't see anything.

_You have never once let me down  
>Still waiting for me to come around<br>And I fall in love again  
>More and more each day<em>

xxxxxxxxx

The cheers of their well-wishers still rang in Tasha's ears as they materialized in the transport station on the tiny island where they had reserved a honeymoon suite.

Despite its vulnerability, this ancient island had remained mostly untouched by World War III, considered just not important enough to bother with. The old cottages and hotels had needed updates, but the image had been preserved.

Data was watching her as she stared out the window. His hand came up to her back, and he began to unlace her dress.

She turned to face him, taking his lips in hers, vaguely aware of him reaching behind her to tug the curtains shut before he let her dress fall away. As he lifted her onto the bed, he whispered a line from a song they had considered but ultimately rejected as being too much of a story for a wedding-type dance. "My darling, you were wonderful tonight."

xxxxxxxxx

Geordi's first thought was that Leah looked terrible. Her face was red and puffy as if she'd been crying. George seemed to notice too. "Mommy, are you okay?"

"Mommy's fine, sweetheart. Go on inside, get out of those clothes. I'll be there in a few minutes." She shooed both of her boys upstairs. "Geordi, we need to talk."

"What's wrong?" He reached out to take her in his arms, but she pulled away.

"You haven't heard then." She sniffed.

"What are you talking about?"

She picked up a data PADD and pushed it into his hands. He glanced down at it, seeing that it was open to a news page.

_MISSING SHIP FOUND ALIVE_

_Fourteen months after being officially declared lost with all hands, a messenger from the USS _Voyager_ has arrived to set the record straight._

_Three days ago, the Federation was visited by _Voyager_'s emergency medical hologram..._

Geordi looked up, needing no more context to know what was upsetting Leah. "Your husband?"

"I'm sorry."

He knew what she meant. If he had been dead, she would have nothing to apologize for. "Leah..."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I love you. I do. But I love him too. When I thought he was dead it was all so simple. I could love you both." Her voice hitched in a sob. "But now - I can't be unfaithful to my husband, Geordi. I made him a vow, till death do us part. I can't go back on that. But this isn't fair to you, I know you love me as much as I love you."

"Leah." He laid his hands on her arms. "I'm going to make this easy for you." He leaned forward and kissed her, clinging to her, relishing the sensation before he let go. "That's it. So long as you're a married woman, that's our last kiss." He closed his eyelids over his implants in an attempt to stop his own tears. "Goodbye, Leah."

"Geordi, wait."

He turned. "Yeah?"

"The boys, they - they look up to you. They love you. Whenever you're on Earth, you can come by, see them, take them out, whatever you want, like you do now. I'm not going to separate you because it would make my life easier."

"Thank you." He meant it. It had all started with Leah, but he hadn't stuck around the boys because it was convenient or to impress their mother. He cared for them. They had become like his children. Leah had no legal obligation to let him see them, but she would anyway. He turned back and, before he could second-guess himself, walked out the door.

**Yeah, I'm ending it here. I have no clue how to write a honeymoon, so the story will pick up upon their return. The four speeches were hard enough to write.**

**As for whose life got more complicated - no one is pregnant, but I'd say Geordi's life just got complicated! A bit more light will be shed in the next chapter.**

**The songs in this chapter are _Love Me Tender_ by Elvis Presley, _You Got It_ by Roy Orbison, and _Kelly's Song_ by Shawn Mullins. The song they decided not to use but that Data quoted was _Wonderful Tonight_ by Eric Clapton. I wanted to write in songs for the father/daughter and mother/son dances, but the only song I could think of was _Sunrise, Sunset_ and apart from the fact that it would leave me one short still, it didn't seem appropriate for this particular wedding considering the histories of the characters.**

**Please review.**


	34. Chapter ThirtyFour: Her Fathers Daughter

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty-Four: Her Father's Daughters**_

"Doctor?"

"Mr. Tuvok, what can I do for you?" The question was half a formality and half his way of making it expressly clear who had power in this situation. He knew Tuvok didn't need medical treatment. He'd been expecting this visit for awhile.

"I wish to discuss your away mission in the Alpha Quadrant."

The Doctor smiled a little. "By which you mean your daughter's involvement."

He raised an eyebrow a little but didn't deny it.

"As I said, she crawled out of a Jeffries tube and took charge. Would I be correct in presuming that she was offered the position directly out of the Academy?"

"Yes. In fact, her appointment was one of the last pieces of news I recieved from my family before our transport into the Delta Quadrant."

"I can certainly see why they broke that unwritten rule of Engineering Corps." His face softened. "She's a wonderful young woman, Mr. Tuvok. You should be proud."

"I do not feel pride. But I am gratified to know she is well."

"Is she the only one of your children in Starfleet?" the Doctor inquired. Despite four years on the ship, he felt like he knew virtually nothing about this man's life outside of his duties.

"That is a more complicated question than I believe you intended to ask."

It was the Doctor's turn to raise an eyebrow now. "Really? Seems straightforward to me."

"Families are not always as straightforward as they seem."

"I'm intrigued. Tell me more."

Tuvok shrugged, seeing no real harm in it. "In addition to my daughter, my wife and I have three sons, as you know. None of them has shown any interest in Starfleet."

"That sounds simple enough."

"Some years ago, when Asil was a child of four, my wife and I fostered a fifth child. She is also a member of Starfleet."

"And here comes the complicated part." He was smiling now. "You adopted her?"

"Not formally. She came of age less than a year after she began living in our home. But she had no other family, and she began to consider us a sort of family. I grew to consider her as one of my children."

The Doctor smiled. "What's complicated about that? You made her a part of your family. Don't tell me no Vulcan has ever done that before."

He hesitated a brief second. The only other person who knew about the intricacies of the situation was Neelix, and that hadn't been by his choice; the accidental melding of their bodies due to a transporter accident had caused them to share memories, and they had never spoken of it once the accident had been reversed. "Can I count on your confidence, Doctor?"

"I'm a physician. Keeping secrets is part of the job."

He nodded a little. "When I first brought Tasha in, my wife was fully supportive of my decision. But in the end, she came to believe the idea had been misguided. She does not consider Tasha a member of our family."

The holographic man smiled sympathetically. "That must be hard for you."

"It has caused more problems with Asil than with myself. I do not require my wife's consent to mentor her, or to maintain contact with her. But Tasha has been a part of Asil's life since she was very young. Asil looked up to her for most of her childhood. She does not understand as I do, and I believe she sees her mother's rejection of Tasha as a betrayal."

"I can't say I blame her."

"There are aspects to this that only T'Pel, myself, and a scant few others know. She has reasons for doing what she has done."

"What reasons?"

"I cannot tell you." This was one of his greatest secrets, something not even their children were aware of, and he certainly wasn't going to tell the Doctor, however certain he was of the holographic man's ability to keep a secret. "I am sorry."

"That's quite all right." The Doctor seemed to spend a few moments flailing for something to say before finally settling on "Anyway, you have a wonderful daughter."

xxxxxxxxx

"You have another letter, Mr. Vulcan. And I promise I didn't read this one."

He took it, trying to maintain his patience with Neelix. Somehow, Starfleet had found a way to transmit a data stream through the same array they had used to send the Doctor to the Alpha Quadrant. Neelix had been handing them out, but had gained the ire of the Vulcan Chief of Security by reading a letter Tuvok's wife had sent him. "But I suppose you did determine the sender?"

At least the smaller man had the grace to look sheepish. "A Lieutenant Asil. Your daughter, I presume?"

"Yes." He took it from Neelix. "Thank you. Is there anything else?"

"No. I get the hint." He scurried out.

Tuvok held the PADD in his hand for a long moment, thinking. While he could never say Asil was his favorite - favoritism would not be logical - it was true that he shared a connection with his daughter that he lacked with his sons. She was the child most like him in temperament. Then he looked down to read what she had to say.

_My Father,_

_I was gratified to hear the news that you are alive and well, or so your ship's doctor has told me. I regret that I will have to limit the length of my message, but I have agreed to allow Tasha to use some of the space allotted to me, as she has far more to tell you than I and Starfleet would not allow her to send you an independent message._

_The only news I have for you concerns my position. Following my finding what my superior termed a "creative solution" to a problem with a new class of starship, I was taken onto the personal team of Captain Scott, the leader of Engineering Corps. I have also, if the EMH has not told you, been promoted to Lieutenant Junior Grade. I have attempted to reconcile with my mother, but my success in reaching a compromise has been limited._

_Though I have not joined her, I have said my own prayer, that you return to us soon._

_Your daughter,_

_Asil_

Tuvok scrolled down a little to the second message, which was far longer. This one had no greeting at all.

_I have so much to tell you, and so little space to tell it in. I'm not even sure where to begin, but I guess I'll start by telling you my biggest piece of news. As of three days ago, I'm married. I'm sure this comes as something of a surprise to you - I know I'm still trying to fully process it myself - but I'm happy, and Data is a good man. I trust I don't have to give you more than a name for you to know exactly who he is, and as I said, space is limited. Suffice to say, android or no, he knows me in a way no one else does, and I'm as sure as I've ever been about anything that he's the person I want to spend the rest of my life with._

_There's more I want to tell you though. I wasn't sure how to put all of this into words, or even whether I should tell you at all, but Asil thought I should. You know that my father died when I was five, and I barely remember him. There have been several people in a position to be a father figure, but no one has accomplished it the way you have. The truth is, I have called you my father, only to myself, for many years now, but it never seemed the right time to tell you. But after years of thinking I'd never get that chance, I had to take it as soon as it came, whether or not the time seemed exactly right. I hope someday I can call you my father to your face. I hope that when I do, you won't stop me, won't correct me. You're the only father I've ever really known. I love you as my father, and even though I know you'll never say those words, you love me in your own way. You've shown me more times than I can count. I would like nothing more than to have your official recognition as your daughter._

_Tasha Yar_

He set the PADD down and picked up another one. He had been writing a reply to his wife, but this one seemed more important. It was only logical to prioritize it.

xxxxxxxxx

"Lieutenant Carey!"

_Voyager_'s Assistant Chief Engineer all but leaped to his feet. "Here!" He took the letter from Neelix, grinning ear to ear. "It's from my wife!"

Heedless of the many other people around, he flopped into the nearest chair.

_My dear Joe,_

_I can't believe you're really alive. I actually thought Command was playing a joke on me when they first told me; it took them almost ten minutes to talk me around! Don't think I'm sorry though. I just needed to be sure it was really true, that I wasn't getting my hopes up for nothing._

_First things first. You have another son. Joseph Michael Carey Jr. was born on September 27th, 2371. Yes, you read that right. I know we joked about him being born on your birthday, but I didn't actually expect it to happen! And I didn't forget that you hadn't wanted to name him after you, but he came out on your birthday and looked so much like a miniature version of you, and I had just lost you - it was something I just had to do. I hope you understand._

"I do, Leah," he whispered, wiping his eyes fiercely with his hand so he could keep reading. "Oh, God, I do."

_George is a wonderful older brother. Those two are inseparable, and they both look so much like you. I wish they'd let me send a picture, but they said they didn't have the capability to do it. When I'm around them, it makes me miss you a little less._

_I spent a long time debating this, but I think it's only fair I tell you the truth. There was someone else, someone I was involved with when I thought you were dead. I'm so sorry, darling. The only thing I have to say for myself is that I really, truly believed you weren't coming home to me. If I'd thought you were still alive out there somewhere, I would never have done it._

_I don't want a divorce or anything like that. He broke it off before I could, as soon as I told him you were still alive. He doesn't want to come between us, and I swear to you that I will wait faithfully for you from this day forward. I swore to you on our wedding day that it was until death do us part, and I don't intend to go back on that. Not ever. I love you and miss you so much. Please try to come home soon._

_All my love,_

_Leah_

Tears splashed onto the screen. It stung him that his wife had been with another man, but at the same time - some of his colleagues had recieved outright Dear John letters, including, if rumor was to be believed, Captain Janeway herself. Leah was loyal to him, she would wait for him now.

And his son. Even though the rational part of him had known he had left Leah five months pregnant, that she would have had the baby long ago, reading it in print was something else.

_Joseph Michael Carey._ He wanted to read his son's name until it was inscribed in his brain for eternity. He wanted to scream it out to the entire mess hall, to hack into the comm system and tell the entire ship he had another son. But he knew that was unlikely to be appreciated. He'd have to settle for telling anyone and everyone who crossed his path.

xxxxxxxxx

"Come in."

The first thing Tasha noticed when she stepped into Geordi's room was the music playing. Near as she could tell, it was another of the selections they had brought back from twenty-first century Earth, but she didn't really have a chance to hear it before her attention became focused on the room's occupant.

He looked up at her. "Hey. I didn't realize you were back already."

"For a couple of hours now. Do you have any clue what time it is?"

"Not off the top of my head." He was playing with something between his fingers.

"It's almost 2000 hours."

"Wow." He shook his head. "Guess I haven't been paying much attention."

"Will mentioned you've been holed up in here pretty much nonstop since the wedding. What's going on?"

"It's nothing." He shook his head a little. "You should be with Data."

"Data and I have been together nonstop for a week. Don't get me wrong, familiarity hasn't bred contempt or anything remotely like it. But I think we can stand to be apart for a little while. Besides, Data wanted me to come see you."

"He did?"

"He's worried about you. So am I."

In the silence that stretched out after that remark, she finally really heard what it was he was listening to.

_And now it's over, I'm awake at last  
>Old heartaches and memories from the past<br>It was just another dream about my lost love  
>About Leah.<em>

"That's it, isn't it?" she said aloud as it hit her.

"What?"

Tasha only nodded to the speakers in response as the music emanated from them.

_Here I go  
>Back to sleep, and in my dreams I'll be<br>With Leah  
>Leah<br>Leah_

"I guess you know by now, huh?"

"About _Voyager_? Yes, I know." She didn't see anything to be gained from telling him she'd known a day before he had. "So her husband -"

"Alive." That was choked. "I know I shouldn't be upset that someone's alive, especially a guy with two little kids, but - damn it! I loved her. I finally had her. I was going to -"

"What?" she prompted.

He finally opened his hand and let her see what she was holding - a ring. "I picked it up on our last shoreleave. I needed all the help I could get to make sure I'd get one she'd actually like - it can be tough when you can't see colors - but I felt like it was all worth it."

"You were going to ask her to marry you," Tasha realized.

"At the wedding. Not to be a spotlight hog, but it just seemed so perfect. Then she wasn't there, so I was getting ready to plan some other occasion, and then this -" A choked sob escaped him. "I miss her."

"So you sit in here playing music with her name in it over and over again?"

"Among other things. This Roy Orbison guy's got some unbelievable stuff about lost love. But this one , what with her name and all - I can't help being drawn to it. To be honest, I'm looking forward to getting back to work. At least I'll have something to do."

"Why don't you come to dinner?" It was out of Tasha's mouth before she'd thought it through. "Data and I haven't eaten yet - if you wanted to -"

"You sure? I don't want to be a third wheel."

"Sure. We have to have our first houseguest sometime, and I can't think of anyone better suited."

He managed a little bit of a smile. "Well, okay then."

xxxxxxxxx

Geordi hadn't been expecting to start crying in his best friends' living room. He'd actually been feeling better. But something - he wasn't even sure what - had triggered a sudden wave of renewed pain, and before he knew it he was in tears, sobbing with every bit of heartbreak that he had built up over the past week. He felt Data's arms around his shoulders and was grateful for it.

"Hey," he whispered once he'd composed himself, "I'm sorry. I really didn't think that was going to happen."

"It's okay." Geordi hadn't even realized the hand on his back wasn't Data's, but the voice apparently attached to it proved otherwise. "I can tell you're hurting."

"I love her so much." He dropped his face into his hands. "I miss her so much. I really am sorry. You two are so happy, and me - I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever be happy like that."

"Do not ever worry about that." Data's voice was gentle with care but firm at the same time. "You have stood by both Tasha and myself countless times. I believe I speak for both us when I say that you are welcome to the same care from us."

"You do."

Something that might have been a smile quirked across his lips. "Well, I might not have any luck with women, but no one ever said I didn't know how to pick my friends."

**I know the title is really only relevant to the first half of the chapter, but I thought it up early on and kind of got attached. Hope no one minded.**

**The last bit, with Geordi finally falling apart in Tasha and Data's quarters came to me on the spur of the moment. The rest was more or less planned.**

**Will we ever find out what caused Tuvok's wife's behavior? The answer is eventually, but not for awhile. Guesses are fine but I doubt anyone will get it, in consideration of which I will give basic yes-or-no answers to direct guesses or questions. The only thing I'll say is that I alluded to it way back in _Perfectly Logical_, in terms of something that is unusual about this particular couple, but a large piece of the puzzle is yet to be revealed.  
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**Most of this chapter is based on the Voyager episode **_**Hunters**_**. The song "Leah" is a real song, Roy Orbison, the artist, is a real person (in my opinion possibly the greatest singer who ever lived), and he did have many, many songs in his repertoire about lost love (among other things, he outlived two wives, so he had some experience with the subject). One of his songs was actually featured in the movie **_**First Contact**_**, so it doesn't seem unrealistic to think that Cochrane had a collection of the man's music, and that if he gave them music as I said he did, those songs would have been among the collection.**

**Please review.**


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five: Family Trouble

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty-Five: Family Trouble**_

"Hey. You okay?" B'Elanna couldn't fail to notice that Tom was crying, even if he was trying to hide it.

Her own news from home hadn't been the best. Though she hadn't gotten a letter of her own, Chakotay had let her know that pretty much all of their colleagues back in the Alpha Quadrant had been wiped out by some group they'd never even heard of. But she knew Tom never cried, that his father had taught him at an early age that it was a sign of weakness to show emotion so openly. Once she'd learned that, it had been a lot easier to understand why he so consistently pretended not to care. In the months since they had begun dating, she had had many occasions to realize just how deeply he cared about people.

She had pulled out his letter from his father just before they had lost the data stream, and the sensor network carrying it, altogether - a blow to many of them, to have lost their only link to their families. It had been racing the clock to pull out both the letter Tom now held in his hands and the one Harry Kim was desperately coveting, but she'd done it. She did feel bad about the others that had been lost - those she might have been able to get and those she had had no chance at - but Harry had been so devastated every time they told him they didn't have a letter for him, and even though the man in question had vehemently denied it, B'Elanna knew Tom needed to read what his father had to say.

"I never knew -" words seemed to fail Tom, at least his own words. "_I want you to know, Tom, that I love you_," he read aloud. "_My greatest regret is that I didn't tell you that enough when you were growing up. I've been told about your accomplishments on _Voyager_, and I want you to know I'm proud of you - very proud. And I need you to know that it tore me apart to think I'd lost you._

"_It hurts me that we've grown apart these past years._ _I guess I spent so much time in your life telling you what I wanted you to do better that I forgot to tell you what you were doing well. That even though I didn't approve of your coverup at Caldik, you did the right thing to come forward when you could have kept it up with no one ever the wiser. Maybe your mother was right after all._

"_I understand if you can't forgive me yet for what I said the last time we spoke. It was cruel of me to say what I did. I hurt you, I _intended_ to hurt you, and that's unforgivable. The only thing I can say is that it isn't true. You are my son, and nothing will ever change that. I love you, Tom._"

His throat was too clogged with tears to keep reading aloud. B'Elanna put her arms around him tightly, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. A few tears slipped free, and she rubbed his back gently.

"I told you," she whispered, but there was no malice behind it, only her care for him. "I told you he might have changed."

"Are you okay?" he asked softly. "I'm sorry about the way I acted before."

She shrugged a little, but did wiggle deeper into his embrace. "I'm sorry too. I know how hard things are between you and your father. I shouldn't have belittled it like that. I wasn't angry at you."

"I know." He pulled her tight. "What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?"

xxxxxxxxx

Owen Paris' face was drawn when he relayed the news to Tasha that the relay network had, for reasons they couldn't be sure of at their end, lost its signal to the station they had been using to communicate with _Voyager._ After a few moments of hearing him talk about "the crew" and "their families", she'd had enough.

"What about you?" she interrupted.

"Sorry?"

"You've been talking in general terms about the way this is going to affect people. What about the way it's going to affect _you_? I can see by looking at your face that this is hurting you."

He looked away, letting the facade drop a little. "The last time I spoke to my son, I told him he wasn't my son anymore. Now I've lost my only chance to communicate with him - to tell him I didn't mean it."

"Didn't you write to him?"

"I did. But we don't know how much of the data stream, if anything, got through. I don't know if he read it or not." He shook his head. "I tried so hard to prove I didn't play favorites with my family that I overcompensated, and Tom paid the price for my need to keep up my looks."

Tasha raised her eyebrow a little. "You never seemed that way with me."

"What?"

It hadn't occurred to her before, but it seemed all too clear now. "You say that you were trying to make sure no one thought you were playing favorites, but Tom's not the only member of your family in Starfleet. You didn't treat me the way you did him."

"It's not the same." He was shaking his head. "When I met you, I had no idea who you were. You were just a cadet who dared to challenge my methods, and had the knowledge to back up her arguments. By the time we finally got our stories straight and realized you were Eva's daughter, you'd done just fine for yourself without any help."

"And after that?" she challenged. "You cut me breaks here and there, like during the incident with the _Pegasus._"

"You were right, and Command agreed with you."

"You let me argue with you, even challenge you. You never would have done that for Tom, and we both know it."

"It's not the same. Tasha, what you've accomplished is incredible. I've looked into your file; you came from nothing, and you're fourth-in-command of the Federation flagship. You don't think you need a little help now and then?"

"I've never asked anyone to cut me any breaks." She met his eyes squarely, her gaze forceful. "And I'm hardly the only one who's had a hard life. There was a girl in my Academy class who grew up in a Bajoran refugee camp. I doubt you'd have done that for her either."

"It's not the same," he repeated. "You _should_ have had the same life Tom had. You come from the same roots. Instead, you spent the first years of your life just trying to survive."

"Everyone deserves that life! What's the difference!"

"Don't you understand? None of their lives - I couldn't have changed their circumstances. What they went through had nothing to do with me."

She opened her mouth to retort but stopped cold when she processed what he had just said. "That's it, isn't it? You blame yourself for the way I grew up."

"She _begged_ me to help her." There was no need to explain who 'she' was. "She needed my help, she needed me to rescue her and her family, and I didn't help her. And because I didn't help her, you spent ten key years of your life living in hell."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Tasha -"

"You're not the only one who's done some digging. I know how hard you tried to save us. I know you tried to call in every favor you were owed and then some to get a ship to get us out of there but no one would even fly into the system. I also know that my parents had plenty of chances to leave, but my father thought they could fix it, that he could help them fix it, and my mother refused to leave him or send me away from her. She was selfish."

"How can you say that?" he demanded indignantly.

"Because it's true," she replied softly. "I love her, but what she did wasn't fair to you. She waited until there were no other options, and then she went to you, knowing there was little chance you could do anything for her, and she made you live with the guilt when you couldn't accomplish the impossible." Tasha reached out and tentatively touched his shoulder, knowing he wasn't really an emotionally demonstrative man. "I'd forgive you for her, but you've done nothing to require it."

He turned his head, and Tasha knew he was too proud to let her see the tears in his eyes. She spoke as though unaware of his incredible emotions. "You have to let it go. As you said yourself, I've done just fine without your help."

"No argument there." He gave a small smile. "What's it going to take to make you accept a promotion?"

She laughed, and the tension between them evaporated.

xxxxxxxxx

"Hey, Doc!"

"Mr. Paris! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Tom waved the data PADD in his hand. "Got some news in my letter from home that might interest you."

He raised a holographic eyebrow. "Let's have it."

Paris grinned. "Well, I know you were interested in other artificial life-forms. I also know you were looking into Lieutenant Commander Data, as the only other artificial life form to have ever served in Starfleet. Well," and here Tom tapped the PADD for emphasis, "your Starfleet idol is now married."

"What? As of when? To who?"

"As of last week, apparently. To my second cousin."

"Is that so?" Tom had the Doctor's undivided attention now. "Tell me about this cousin."

Tom grinned. "Got a couple hours?"

xxxxxxxxx

Deanna might have been the only empath in the room, but it didn't take a sixth sense to know that the Betazoid councilor was upset. In seconds, Tasha had crossed the observation lounge to stand next to her. "Deanna? What's wrong?"

She just shook her head and sent a silent glance towards the Captain, who was standing tight-lipped at the head of the table. Tasha turned to him. "Captain?"

"I have bad news." He looked around the table at the assembled senior staff. "Counselor, if you don't want to be here for this -"

"Just go ahead," she replied, her voice edged with pain.

"Betazed has fallen to the Dominion," he said gravely, and Deanna gave a dry sob and buried her face in her crossed arms. The rest of the room was engulfed in dead silence.

Tasha's mind was split. Half of her was aching for Deanna, for Lwaxana, for all the innocent lives under Dominion rule. They had never taken a civilian planet before. The other half was in full tactical mode. How had this been allowed to happen? How could they keep it from happening again? And, perhaps most importantly, what other systems were in danger?

"How?" Someone - Will, Tasha realized after a moment of disorientation - asked one of the many questions that had been swarming in her mind.

"According to initial reports, the invasion force must have come from somewhere in the Calandra Sector," Picard explained. "Starfleet Intelligence had believed that Calandra was too far from Dominion supply lines to be a threat."

Tasha resisted the urge to punch a wall. _She_ had known better than to assume any sector outside their own strongholds was a safe zone. She knew that they only had so much time and so many officials, but to completely overlook a sector? Starfleet had been at peace so long they had forgotten how to fight a war.

"What about the ships that were supposed to be protecting that sector?" she pressed.

The Tenth Fleet was supposed to be protecting Betazed and its outlying colonies, but it was caught out of position on a training exercise. Betazed's own defense systems were nowhere near up to the task. The planet fell in less than ten hours."

xxxxxxxxx

"This could have serious tactical repercussions. With the Dominion in control of Betazed, several key systems are at risk. We need to recalculate our tactical plans send additional forces to reinforce Vulcan, Andor, Tellar, Alpha Centauri, anything that the occupation of Betazed has made vulnerable."

"I sympathize, Commander," Admiral Ross replied on her screen, "but we're already stretched pretty thin. I don't know that we have additional forces to send."

"We would if we didn't have to spend all our forces plugging up the leaks around the Romulan neutral zone," she replied. "We need to convince them to stop standing by."

He shrugged. "We've tried, but they have a non-aggression pact they're not inclined to break. I'm open to suggestions."

"I'll get back to you. Yar out." She terminated the communication. "Computer, open secure subspace channel to General Makar, Romulan Fleet Command. Authorization Yar Theta Nine-Two-Five."

xxxxxxxxx

"Tasha." The Romulan general looked worn, but the smile on his face was genuine. "What can I do for you today?"

"You can tell me why your Empire is dragging its heels on getting involved in this war," she replied sharply. "You know as well as I do that this non-aggression pact is only a stop-gap measure to keep you from providing additional challenge to them while they fight the Federation and the Klingons. If they achieve that objective, do you really think they'll keep the pact? They'll turn around and take down the Romulan Empire next, once they don't have to divide their attention and no one else is there to stop them. The Federation-Klingon Alliance is already starting to lose ground. The only way to stop them is for all the major Alpha Quadrant powers to come together and present a unified front against them."

He raised an eyebrow a little at her tirade. "Tasha, Tasha, you know I agree with you. But my government doesn't agree with me. If they're going to break the non-aggression pact, they have to have a rock-solid reason to do it."

That might have sounded like an idle statement of frustration, but she saw a slight gleam in his eye. "What are you planning?"

He smiled a little. "My dear, you are far too perceptive for your own good." He lowered his voice a few decibels, as though someone might be listening in. "They'll have little choice but to break the pact if it appears that the Dominion have broken it first."

Tasha leaned forward a little. "How are you going to do that?"

"The Dominion believe that all of the Romulan army is honoring this pact. Their guard is down. But the next time they breach our borders, they may find themselves short a few ships. And when those same ships suddenly attack a Romulan stronghold, what is the government to think?"

"You think you can do it?"

"We've been working on it for some time, but we didn't want to tip our hand to the Federation - or much of anyone, for that matter. Only those directly involved know about it. With that in mind, I would appreciate if you kept this out of Starfleet Command's ears for awhile."

"I will." She smiled at him. "Watch yourself. If your own government found out what you were up to -"

"Trust me. We have every precaution in place to prevent that happening."

"Then - good luck."

"And the same to you. Makar out."

xxxxxxxxx

"More news?" Will asked. "Bad?"

"For once, no," Picard replied. "We may have finally gotten the shot in the arm we needed. The Romulans have joined the war, on our side."

"What?" Will gasped in disbelief. "Not that this isn't good news, but last week they were stubbornly refusing to get involved. What changed?"

"Several Dominion ships staged a strike against a Romulan military outpost. Once that happened, the Romulans considered the treaty voided. They're not thrilled about the alliance, but they'd rather defend what's theirs than let the Dominion roll over it."

"Thank God they did," Will said. "That little mistake may have just cost them the war. How could they slip so badly?"

Tasha turned her face a little to hide the smile she couldn't help.

**The end of this chapter is written as a sort of alternative to **_**In the Pale Moonlight**_**, and some of the dialogue is borrowed from that episode.**

**The bit about Admiral Paris treating Tasha differently because he feels guilty over her mother is something I've been thinking about for awhile but couldn't find a place to fit it in. It did strike me that Paris treated Tasha with a little leniency he doesn't really give anyone else, and canon establishes that he doesn't believe in giving his family special treatment.**

**Please review.**


	36. Chapter Thirty-Six: Take Your Q From Me

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty-Six: Take Your Q From Me**_

Tasha woke slowly. There was an odd, uncomfortable feeling of being watched, and she knew it wasn't Data watching her either. She sat up warily, keeping the blanket wrapped around her. "Who's there?"

"Well, Tasha, it's about time."

"Q!" She wrapped the blanket tighter around her, more than a little disconcerted. "What the hell are you doing in my bedroom?"

"Is that any way to speak to a messenger bearing gifts? I have something I want to give you."

"Get. Out."

"You don't even want to know what it is?"

"If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that your gifts come with catches. I'm not interested."

"There was no catch when I saved your precious Lal."

"Only because Data had already done his share. You were paying off a debt."

"And that's what I'm doing now."

"You don't owe me anything. Don't try to confuse me, it won't work." She finally managed to stretch far enough to get her robe and throw it on over her nightclothes. She stood, well on her way out the door.

"Tasha, wait."

She wasn't sure why she stopped, but when she turned back, the look on his his face was the most genuine expression of contrition she had ever seen on him (though that wasn't quite enough to convince her he was for real).

"You really don't remember, do you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. In fact, I don't think you're talking about anything. I think you're trying to confuse me again."

"No." He stood and approached her, but to his credit he stayed far enough back not to invade her personal space. "I'm not trying to confuse you. Something _did_ happen."

"Then why do I have no memory of it?"

"I erased it. I thought it best."

"You - you _erased my memory_? You're telling me there's a whole part of my life I know nothing about?"

"Not much, and we were outside the space-time continuum. There's no time lost."

"Give it back." Her glare was ice. "Return my memories. Now."

"Are you sure? This is something you might be better off not knowing."

"I said _now._"

He looked at her, and the contrition was back even stronger. "I'm sorry."

Then he snapped his fingers. Tasha gasped as the flood of memories came rushing back.

_It had been a long day, and all Tasha wanted was to lie down. Wearily, she pulled off her jacket and dropped it on a chair in the living room before walking into the bedroom._

_She stopped dead and gasped. Her bed had been replaced with something that looked like it had been pulled from a Valentine card. "What the hell?"_

_"You like it?"_

_She spun 180 degrees to see that there was someone in her quarters - and it wasn't Data going overboard on some sentimental gesture either. "Q!"_

_"A bit much, perhaps, but I thought you'd appreciate the gesture. And after all, it's not like it cost me anything."_

_"What are you doing in my quarters?"_

_"As strange as this may sound, waiting for you."_

_"Yar to Security, intruder alert."_

_"__Oh, it's no use. I've taken the proverbial phone off the hook. After all, we don't want any interruptions."_

_"Interruptions to what?"_

_"Our night together." He sat down and patted the bed next to him. "Don't be so shy. Come here. Or would you rather put on something more comfortable first?"_

_He snapped his fingers, and her uniform was instantly replaced by a nearly sheer nightgown. Horrified, she grabbed her robe and threw it on over the offending item. "Are you _propositioning_ me?"_

_"You don't miss a trick, do you?"_

_"There are a few things you've missed, however. Like the fact that I'm seeing someone."_

_He sighed. "Still Mr. Data, I presume."_

_"Exactly. And I'd never be unfaithful to him and especially not with you."_

_"Are you sure? I could give you things, experiences, you've never even dreamed of."_

_"Why are you so interested in getting in my bed anyway? If you can call that thing my bed."_

_He sighed."Because I want to - no, I _need_ to have a child. And I want to have it with you."_

_"I can't have children." Hopefully that would be enough to get him out of her quarters._

_"You really think a simple injury is going to stop a Q? All I have to do is snap my fingers, and presto! Back to normal. You can have all the children you want."_

_"I won't say it's not tempting. But I'm not going to have an affair just so I can get back the ability to have children."_

_"What about getting back a child?" He stood and approached her, running a finger over her face. "How good of a deal is that? I get one child; in return, you get two."_

_He snapped his fingers, and a baby materialized on the bed. Tasha ran over to it, and her heart almost stopped when she moved the blanket away from its face. "Eva. Eva, my baby, Eva!" Tears of elation poured down her face, but she didn't even notice._

_"Perfectly healthy. Just like you've always wanted her."_

_She reached down to take the baby in her arms, but Q snapped his fingers again and she disappeared. Tasha turned on him angrily. "Why? Why did you take my baby away?"_

_"She can be yours forever. But you only get my gift if you give me what I want."_

_"You're saying I have to cheat on my boyfriend or you'll take my baby away?" Anger welled up in her and she swung at him, hard enough to have broken his nose if he was mortal. "What kind of sick monster are you? You're no better than the men who raped me, demanding sex in exchange for that." _

_Then she collapsed on the hideous bed, her anger draining out of her all at once, replaced by agonizing grief as intense as that she'd felt when Eva had died in her arms so many years ago. She started screaming and couldn't stop, piercing cries coming from the deepest part of her. "Give me my baby, Q," she begged. "Please just give me my baby."_

_For the first time, he actually realized he might have gone too far. She lay sobbing on the bed, screaming in pain. He had never seen her broken like that - never thought that strong Tasha Yar could be broken like that. He had wanted her because of her strength. What kind of pain must it take to break such a woman that way?_

_He reached a hand out and gently touched her head. "Sleep, Tasha. Sleep."_

_He snapped his fingers and she slumped to the bed, unconscious. He kept his hand on her head. "When you wake up, you will remember none of this. You came into your bedroom and were so tired you laid down and fell asleep in your clothes." He snapped his fingers and her nightgown changed back into her uniform, her robe back where it had been, her bed the same as it had been before he had changed it. "I was never here."_

Tasha stared at Q, tears running freely down her face. "How could you do that to me?"

"I didn't realize what I was doing. I didn't think it would hurt you that badly. I truly didn't. You're right when you said I was no better than a rapist, trying to force you to be intimate with me by offering to give you something you'd always wanted, something no one else could give."

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I did end up having a child, with a fellow Q. Having a child of my own made me realize how much you must have loved your daughter, how cruel it was to dangle her in front of you and then snatch her away like I did. I can't give her back to you, Tasha. But I can give you a gift. To show you how sorry I am."

"What is it?"

"Someone you love is going to die," he said bluntly.

"Who? When?"

"Tomorrow." He skipped her first question completely. "I'm offering you a chance to save her."

"How?"

"At the appropriate moment, I will transport you to the site where the death will take place. You'll have two minutes to prevent her death."

"Who is it? How does it happen?"

"It will all be clear once you're there."

xxxxxxxxx

"You look tired," Data remarked.

"You're telling me. I had the most bizarre dream last night - at least I think it was a dream. It felt so real."

"What was it about?"

"Q was in my quarters, saying something about erasing my memory and giving me a chance to save a friend. I guess I'm probably a little sleep deprived, huh?"

"Perhaps."

"You need to get the rest of the crew to pull their weight on graveyard shift. I don't have those crazy dreams so much when you're with me."

xxxxxxxxx

The moment she materialized in the Bajoran shrine on Deep Space Nine, she knew it hadn't been a dream.

The memory Q had restored was still a little hazy, but the part that had actually happened the night before was crystal clear. She realized he had probably dulled it intentionally, so she would perceive it as a dream, to keep her from obsessing over it all day. _Who knew Q could exercise common sense?_

_Why here? Why now? _She had to assume Q had sent her here for a reason. This had to be connected to the death he had mentioned. _But why the shrine? What's here?_

She looked around, and her eyes landed on the Orb. The mystical items weren't fully understood, but she knew they had incredible religious significance and some practical connection to the wormhole aliens that had turned out to be their most valuable allies. These Prophets, whoever they were, hadn't let a single Dominion ship through the wormhole since Benjamin had flown in on a fool's mission during their retaking of the station. If there was one thing in the entire shrine that was worth killing over, it was that.

A footstep startled her and she looked up, her hand already at her belt for her phaser. But she let it go as soon as she saw who it was. "Jadzia."

And then she knew.

Q hadn't told her who it was, but he had dropped one hint in the form of a female pronoun. Tasha didn't have a lot of female friends, and only two of them were on board the station. Niether Keiko or Jadzia was a follower of Bajoran religion, so the chances of both of them entering the shrine at the same time had to be astronomical. Jadzia was in imminent danger, and Tasha didn't know how to save her.

The Trill woman's head shot up when she heard the voice. "Tasha? I didn't even realize you were in the sector."

"I wasn't. It's a long story."

"What are you doing here?"

"To be honest - I'm not entirely sure."

But at that moment, all the candles in the shrine were extinguished. Before the two women could do more than gape, a figure materialized in the middle of the shrine.

His eyes were blazing red. But to Tasha he had always been a demon.

"Dukat!" Jadzia gasped, but Tasha's didn't need the confirmation. She'd never forget a face.

And she knew. _He is going to kill Jadzia. Dukat is going to kill Jadzia._

And in the next few seconds, if her sense of timing was anything resembling accurate.

She saw Jadzia going for her phaser, and there was no time to tell her to stand down. She reached out and caught hold of Jadzia's arm, dragging her towards the wall, pressing them both against it.

"Tasha, what are you doing? We need to stop him."

"You'll get yourself killed!" To Jadzia, it would sound like simple concern. To Tasha, it was a statement of fact. If Jadzia confronted Dukat, she would die.

Dukat ignored them both, intent on the Orb. Tasha had been right. He reached up and opened it.

It was as though his body exploded. Light flowed from it in a stream, headed straight for the orb. Jadzia gasped. Tasha was frozen.

The light stopped emanating from Dukat, but the damage appeared to be done. The Orb, which had been glowing, was dark.

A quick look told Tasha that Dukat had no weapon. Whatever it was he would have done to Jadzia, it must have been while he had that - _thing_ in him. As long as they stayed out of his reach, he was no danger to him.

"Jadzia, call security." She pulled her phaser from her belt and pointed it at Dukat. "Stop. Stop now."

He turned. "Why, Commander. What a pleasant surprise."

That voice was enough to send a thrill of fear through her, but she gripped her phaser tighter. "I said _stop_." She had the phaser in both hands now and raised it even more as he locked his eyes on hers.

_She was lying on the cold floor, naked, too weak to move. He rolled her onto her back. She wanted to fight him, but her body couldn't cooperate. Starved, dehydrated, exhausted, injured - she barely had the strength to turn her head so she wouldn't have to watch him lower his pants._

"Tasha. Tasha. Give me the phaser."

A hand wrapped around hers, drawing her back to reality, and the phaser was removed from her hands. She finally got a look at the man who had removed it. "Julian."

"Are you okay?"

"What happened?"

"Actually, I was hoping you could tell me. You told Jadzia to call security, and when Odo got here you were holding a phaser on empty air, shaking. Your eyes were glazed and I could tell you left us for a minute."

"I guess I did." She swallowed hard. "Wait, empty air? What about Dukat?"

"He beamed out before Odo could arrest him. You didn't see that, did you?"

She shook her head no.

"I'd like to get you to the infirmary, run some tests. Just to be safe."

"I'll go to Sickbay on my ship. I promise."

"What do you -" Julian began, but in a flash of light, the entire station blinked out of her view.

She wasn't entirely sure where she was now. It was a sort of nothing, an empty room but unlike any room she'd ever been in. "Where am I?"

"Consider it a waiting room." Q appeared as if from nowhere.

"Did I do it?"

"You did it. You can probably expect a very confused call each from Lieutenant Dax and Doctor Bashir later, but your mission was successful. Your friend Mr. Worf will thank you, I'm sure. And just so you know, your memories of that first night we spoke will always be just a little hazy, like a vivid nightmare instead of a real-life experience. You don't need to carry that pain."

He snapped his fingers, and she materialized back in Ten-Forward, where she'd been before it had all started, before she had a chance to thank him.

She was vaguely aware that Guinan was talking to someone over the comm, and then her own badge crackled. "Captain to Yar. Tasha, can you hear me?"

"I hear you, Captain."

"You weren't hearing me for the last five minutes. Guinan said you disappeared."

"It's a long story, Captain. I think we'd better have this conversation in person."

"My ready room, as soon as you can get here."

"Copy that, Captain." _Boy, do I have a story for you._

**This episode takes place during the DS9 episode **_**Tears of the Prophets**_**, except for the flashback which takes place just before the Voyager episode **_**The Q and the Grey, **_**albeit in the Alpha Quadrant. At that point in the timeline, Data and Tasha were not yet even engaged, let alone married, so the references to their relationship are written to reflect that.**

**I was working on this idea (of Q going to Tasha before Janeway and trying to bribe her with the baby) for awhile when I was at that point in the story but scrapped it because I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with it or where it would go. But I'd always been planning to save Jadzia, and as I came closer to that part of the story I realized that having Q help Tasha out was the only way I could think of to do it without creating no end of obviously contrived coincidences, which is why I added in the bit about him making her forget.**

**I may or may not dedicate part of the next chapter to addressing Tasha's PTSD we see in this chapter. I'm still not sure.**

**Please review.**


	37. Chapter Thirty-Seven: Back Home

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Back Home  
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"You weren't kidding when you said it was a long story. And more than a little complicated."

Tasha smiled a little and shrugged. "With Q, isn't it always?"

She had omitted the part about Q trying to bribe her with her child. He had seemed genuinely remorseful, and he had just done her and several people in her life a huge favor. She didn't want to get Picard mad at him all over again. As far as he knew, Q had showed up in her room and tried to proposition her even after she told him she was seeing Data. She had been angry and upset enough that he had erased her memory, and then he had offered her a chance to save a friend, and so on.

"You look upset. What else did he do?"

"That one's not on him," she replied truthfully. She was still a little shaky after having to look her former tormentor in the eyes, but Q couldn't be held responsible for that. "The Cardassian who tried to kill her -"

"Understood." She shot him a grateful look. Of course he would understand - he had been there. He had been forced to watch one of them hurt her. He would know that she could never forget. And he would know from the look on her face that the man she had faced down that day had been one of her tormentors.

"Take the next shift off. Go to Sickbay if you need it."

"Thank you, Captain." Normally she might have protested the idea of going to Sickbay, but she had promised Julian, and she wasn't going to go back on that. She knew how bad it had been, and she could only imagine how she had looked to an outsider, especially one that cared as much as her young friend did.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha wasn't at all surprised to see Julian's face on her monitor. "I assume you have a few questions."

"A few doesn't begin to cover it. I'm not sure if I should ask first about your mysterious appearance and disappearance, when I happen to have seen that your ship is more than five light-years away, or what happened in the shrine."

"The answer to the first is pretty straightforward. In fact, I can answer it in one letter. Q."

Julian laughed. "I should've guessed, but I slept through most of his only visit to the station. His fault, of course. He was upset that I was making advances towards a woman that had been his traveling companion. All the same, you should have seen their faces when I appeared after what I eventually discovered was two days of utter chaos and asked if I'd missed something. Hey, how was _I _supposed to know that when I said I felt like I'd just slept for days I meant it literally?"

Tasha joined in his laughter. It felt good after the day she'd had. "Jadzia's, uh, otherwise engaged, but she told me to thank you. You probably saved her life today."

_I know I did_, she thought, but she didn't say it out loud. "Worf's back?"

"You know it. _And_ I just told her that some treatments I did worked quite well and she and Worf shouldn't have any problems conceiving a child. I get a feeling we won't be seeing much of them off-duty for awhile." They both laughed again, but it didn't last long before Julian started talking again. "But in all seriousness, what happened in the shrine? I don't know where you went, but it was pretty clear you weren't there with us. You didn't even know Dukat had beamed out." He sighed. "Look, I know there's a history there."

"How?" She was instantly on alert. "What has Garak been telling you?"

"Garak? Garak didn't tell me anything. I think we've well established I'm not stupid. I don't know any specifics, but you tense up every time he comes up as a topic of conversation, and you're always making comments about him."

"What do you mean?"

"Like when he first allied Cardassia with the Dominion, I said I was shocked he would do something like that, and Garak said I didn't really know him, and then he looked right at you, like you would know exactly what he meant. And when I said he'd gone insane, you said he always had been and it was just starting to show. I didn't realize how serious it must have been until I saw you today, though. You thought he was still there until I snapped you out of it. What happened between you two?"

"It was about six years ago," she said softly. "We thought we were going to destroy a metagenic weapon built by the Cardassians. It wasn't real," she hastened to add when she saw the look on his face. "It was a trap to catch Captain Picard. My capture was collateral damage, but once they had me they weren't just going to let me go because I wasn't their objective."

"They gave you to Dukat," Julian realized.

She nodded. "They said they wanted information on how to break the Captain, but they had to know that nothing I could tell them was actually worth that much. He had them torture me because he enjoyed it."

"What did he do?" Julian pressed gently.

"He beat me, denied me food, water, and sleep," she said softly. "And he -" She broke off and turned her head, hoping he'd miss the tears in her eyes.

He didn't. "What?"

She swallowed. "He - he used me. Sexually. And he started bringing his friends by to do the same."

"My God." Horror was written on Julian's face. "How come you never said anything?"

"I wanted to pretend it never happened. You all thought of him as a sort of amicable adversary, I didn't want everyone to know what happened. It's bad enough I have to live with it."

"Who knows?"

"Data, of course. My Captain, Doctor Crusher, and I suspect Geordi does although he's never outright said anything. A couple other friends, mostly the ones who were mistakenly informed I was dead when I was taken prisoner."

"And Garak." Julian reeled a little as he realized what he'd said. "How does Garak know? Don't tell me he -" The young doctor looked pained as he tried to equate the friend he knew with what the situation suggested.

"No," she said quickly. "Dukat brought him in, but he never touched me. He told Dukat he'd rather conduct his business in private, then he just sat and talked to me. It was the only kindness I recieved the entire time I was there."

"That's why you go out of your way to talk to him." That did seem to fit better with a secret ally than what had first crossed his mind.

"He was a small light in a very dark place. It wasn't until years later that I learned he'd tried to get me transferred into his custody. I don't think he ever meant for me to find out."

"How did you?"

"Tain told me. I'd be surprised if anything ever went on anywhere in the Cardassian empire he didn't know about, let alone something involving one of his own operatives."

"I always had a sense that the three of you knew something you weren't sharing but I never thought - I never thought it was something like that. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You didn't know because I didn't want you to. I just wanted things to get back to normal."

"What happened in the shrine didn't look normal to me."

Tasha flinched a little, but she knew she deserved it. She had probably scared him half to death. "I swear, that hasn't happened in years."

"But it has happened before?" Julian didn't look at all put at ease by this.

"I wasn't expecting to see him a week after I was released. Of all the people for Cardassia to send to negotiate about the wormhole, they had to send him. I collapsed right there on the bridge. I'm just lucky my crew was tactful enough not to ask the hard questions."

"And you didn't talk to anyone."

"Like I said, I want to forget. Talking endlessly about what happened - it just means having to drudge up the memories over and over again. It doesn't help."

Julian opened his mouth to ask how she would know and closed it again when he decided he didn't want to know. He could likely guess anyway, knowing where she came from.

"After what happened today, I doubt he'll be welcome on the station anytime soon," he offered. "Captain Sisko's gone too."

"What? Why?"

"Whatever Dukat did, it turned off all the orbs and closed the wormhole. The Bajorans are begging for answers he can't give, he had some sort of telepathic communique he feels like he should have listened to to stop this, and on top of that he knows he almost got his best friend killed. He just needed to get away from it all."

"But he'll be back."

Julian shrugged. "At this point, we don't know. I don't think he knows."

She sighed. "He's really been handed one heck of a mess, hasn't he? He gets transferred practically by force out to a space station against his will which turns out to be one of the most pivotal Federation holdings and at the same time he learns that he's supposed to be the intermediary for some non-corporeal aliens that happen to be considered gods to the people he's working with for the foreseeable future."

"And then he finds out that on the other side of the wormhole that's made this station so important in the first place is an empire that now knows about the wormhole and wants to take over the Alpha Quadrant as well, and his station is now on the front line," Julian finished. "And then it's just one thing after another. It's no wonder he decided he'd had enough."

"Who's in charge now?"

"Major Kira. They considered sending out someone else, someone Starfleet, but she knows what's going on in a way that some new Captain wouldn't. Dax is head of Starfleet matters - if we can ever get her out of the bedroom and into ops," he added with a visible gleam in his eye.

The comment had its intended effect and Tasha started laughing again.

xxxxxxxxx

"Data?"

"Yes?"

"Tonight - is it okay if - if we don't -"

He nodded in understanding. "Is everything all right?" He would never force her to do anything, but she had never outright asked him _not_ to have sex with her before they even got into bed, and he was worried.

She hadn't intended to tell him, but at his gentle prompting she felt her guard tumble down and she blurted out everything. By the time she had finished, tears were sliding down her face.

He stepped closer, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight. "Shh," he whispered. "I have you now. You are all right. You are safe now. I have you."

"Oh, Data." She leaned into his chest. "I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"It would be hard not to," he teased. "You remind me of it at least ten times a day."

**Sorry this took so long, really. I just didn't quite know where it was going.**

**We'll probably be skipping a few months in the timeline between this chapter and the next (hopefully that will **_**not**_** be how long it takes me to write it!). Just fair warning.**

**Please review.**


	38. Chapter Thirty-Eight: Fountain of Youth

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Fountain of Youth**_

Worried as she was about Data, Tasha had fully agreed with Picard that Worf would be better-equipped for the mission to recapture him. He had gone off the rails days earlier, blowing the cover of a sensitive mission, ignoring orders, and generally acting very strange. They had promised that the device they were using to momentarily disable him so he could be brought back to the ship wouldn't hurt him, but she still couldn't trust herself not to hesitate.

He was aboard now, apparently without incident, though she'd caught Worf muttering something incomprehensible about Gilbert and Sullivan. She made a mental note to ask him once this all blew over.

The village on the planet below them was idyllic. The photos and reconnaissance reports hadn't done it justice. There was something in the air, something she couldn't identify, but it made her feel so young and alive it took her breath away.

_This is possibly the least hostile hostage situation that ever existed_, she thought as she looked around. There wasn't a weapon in sight. If their orders from Command hadn't been so clear, she would have been convinced that something had been lost in translation, that these officers weren't really being held hostage at all.

The hostages approached the landing party who met them halfway. "Captain, Subahdar Gallatin, Son'a Command," one introduced himself.

"Lieutenant Curtis, attache to Admiral Dougherty," said another.

"Are you all right?" Picard asked.

"We've been treated extremely well," Curtis replied, confirming Tasha's suspicions that this would not be a normal hostage situation.

"They have an incredible mental discipline, clarity of perception."

Tasha turned to Deanna, who had spoken completely out of context, and followed her gaze to a group of children playing. She was right. They seemed much more focused and coordinated than the children in the _Enterprise _school. In fact, it reminded her of nothing so much as Asil and her brothers as children.

A man who appeared to be a local approached them. "My name is Sojef, Captain."

"Jean-Luc Picard," he replied. "These are my officers, Doctor Crusher, Counselor Troi, Commander Yar."

"Would you like something to eat?"

"No, we're here to ...rescue them." It was clear from his tone that he found this description as inappropriate as Tasha did.

To his credit, Sojef didn't comment on that. "As you wish. But I would ask you to disarm yourselves. This village is a sanctuary of life."

Picard nodded to the away team, who removed their phasers. "Prepare the hostages for transport to the ship."

"They should be quarantined before joining the ship's population," Beverly advised.

Picard nodded his assent, but he was already on to the next issue. "We were under the impression they were being held against their will."

"It's not our custom to have guests here at all, let alone hold anyone against their will," replied a woman.

"The artificial lifeform would not allow them to leave," Sojef explained. "In fact he told us they were our enemies and that more would follow."

"Are you our enemy?" the woman asked bluntly.

"Anij!" Soref chided.

_The universal translator didn't get that_, Tasha thought. _It must be the woman's name._

_"_Our people have a strict policy of non-interference in other cultures," Picard was explaining. "It's our Prime Directive."

"Your directive apparently doesn't include spying on other cultures," Anij pointed out rather astutely.

"The artificial lifeform is a member of my crew," Picard explained, dodging the more difficult issue the woman had just raided. "Apparently, he was taken ill."

"There was a phase variance in his positronic matrix which we were unable to repair," said another man.

Picard's eyebrows almost shot through the atmosphere. It didn't go unnoticed.

"I think the Captain finds it hard to believe that we'd have any skills for repairing positronic devices," Anij's words might have been more plausible if she hadn't had such a teasing tone in her voice.

"Our technological abilities are not apparent because we have chosen not to employ them in our daily lives," Soref told them. "We believe when you create a machine to do the work of a man, you take something away from the man."

Picard glanced back at Tasha, clearly telling her not to get into it. She sighed, biting her lips to keep silent. She almost wished he didn't know her so well, just so she could have gotten off a retort before he could stop her.

Anij was talking now. "But at one time, we explored the galaxy just as you do."

"You have warp capability?" Picard asked, and Tasha could see the tension drain from his shoulders. If they were warp-capable, then the Prime Directive didn't apply and Data's actions, while puzzling, weren't nearly as serious as they had believed.

"Capability, yes," Anij replied. "But where can warp drive take us, except away from here?"

"I ...apologize for our intrusion," Picard said simply, having no answer. "Picard to _Enterprise._ Energize."

xxxxxxxxx  
>I had to reconstruct Data's neural net and replace these," Geordi explained as he walked down the corridor with Tasha and the Captain. "They contain memory engrams."<p>

"How were they damaged?" Picard asked.

"By a Son'a weapon," Geordi replied, nearly stopping both of his companions in their tracks. "There's no doubt about it, Captain. That's what caused Data to malfunction"

"But the Son'a report claimed they didn't fire until after he malfunctioned." Picard looked more than a little troubled, and Tasha was sure his expression was mirrored on her face.

"Well, I don't believe it happened that way," Geordi replied as they stepped into Engineering.

"Why would they fire at him without provocation?" Picard asked.

"All I know is he was functioning normally until he was shot. Then, his fail-safe system was activated."

"Fail-safe?" Picard frowned.

"His ethical and moral subroutines took over all of his basic functions," Geordi replied just as Tasha opened her mouth to do the same. She was no engineer but she knew everything there was to know about Data.

"So what you're saying he still knew the difference between right and wrong."

"In a sense, that's all he knew. The system is designed to protect him against anyone who might try to take advantage of his memory loss."

"And yet he attacked us." Picard still sounded as confused as Tasha felt. "And told the Ba'ku that we were a threat." He dropped that train of thought momentarily as Geordi rubbed his artificial eyes. "Are the implants bothering you?"

"No, I'm all right. I'm just tired." As he spoke, Geordi opened a door behind which Data stood and activated him.

Data's yellow eyes opened. "Geordi? Captain?" A smile lit up his face as he saw who else was there. "Tasha."

"You're on the _Enterprise_, Data," Picard explained.

"I seem to be missing several memory engrams. There they are," he added as Geordi held out the pieces in his hand.

"Data, what's the last thing that you remember?" Picard pressed.

"His nose should pant and his lip should curl..." Data sang. Tasha just barely bit back a laugh as Worf's Gilbert and Sullivan comment was thrown into some context. She'd have to ask the Captain for details when this was all over.

"From the mission," Picard corrected before the impromptu performance could go any further.

"I was in an isolation suit gathering physiometric data on Ba'ku," he told them. "My last memory is going into the hills, following some children."

Picard glanced over at Tasha, and she was the one who said aloud what everyone was thinking. "We'd better figure out what's in those hills that someone didn't want us to know about."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha had been more than a little startled when she saw the ship that had been submerged under the water, but that was nothing compared to how she felt when she saw the holographic setting on the ship; a recreation of the village where Data, in his confusion, had held those officers hostage.

"Data, if you were following the children and discovered this ship..." Picard was saying when Tasha finally regained her ability to understand speech.

"It is conceivable I was shot to protect the secret of its existence," Data finished for him.

"Why would they duplicate this village except to deceive the Ba'ku?" Picard asked.

"Deceive us?" Anij gasped.

"To move you off this planet," Picard replied grimly. "You go to sleep one night in the village. Wake up the next morning on this flying holodeck transported en masse. In a few days, you're relocated on a similar planet without ever realizing it."

"Why would the Federation or the Son'a wish to move the Ba'ku?" Data asked.

"I don't know." But they didn't have time to speculate. The words were barely out of Picard's mouth before the quiet conversation was interrupted by a disruptor blast.

Anij dove away in fright and ended up careening into the lake, accidentally taking Tasha down with her. The security chief surfaced in time to see Data and Picard take down the shooter and deactivate the program, but it was clear to her that Anij was having far more trouble.

"Help!" The woman's panicked cry only confirmed what Tasha had suspected. "I can't swim!"

In seconds, Data and Picard splashed down beside them.

"Don't panic." Picard advised, taking hold of the woman.

"I've been shot at. Thrown into the lake out of an invisible ship that's come to abduct us. What's there to panic about?" Anij replied a little testily.

As if on cue, Data rose to the surface, bobbing in the water without needing to paddle. "In the event of a water landing, I have been designed to serve as a floatation device."

Tasha laughed out loud. She well remembered when they had installed that program, to prevent a repeat of a holodeck incident which had involved Data trying to swim only to sink to the bottom. He couldn't drown, of course, but that didn't mean they wanted it to happen again.

xxxxxxxxx

"The time is 0705 hours."

Tasha moaned softly. She had finally figured out what the incessant noise she'd been hearing was. "Computer," she mumbled, "deactivate alarm." Then she rolled over and went back to sleep.

She woke to a voice. "Computer, shut up," she groaned. Then she felt a hand touch her. The words finally started to make sense.

"Tasha. Tasha. Wake up."

She knew that voice now; her husband's voice. "Data. What is it?"

"It is after 0930 hours. You were due on the bridge well over an hour ago." She felt the bed dip a little as he sat on it. "It is not like you to be late."

She tried to sit up but fell back with a groan. Instantly his face was etched with concern. "Are you well?"

"I don't know."

"What is wrong?"

"I just don't feel well," she mumbled. "I'm tired and I hurt."

"Where?"

She laid a hand over her lower abdomen. "Right here."

He jumped up so fast he almost dislodged her from the bed. "Data to Sickbay."

"_What is it, Data?_" Beverly's voice came through the comm.

"Tasha is sick. Would you please come to our quarters?"

"_I'll be right there._"

xxxxxxxxx

"Well? What's wrong with me?"

Beverly had come down to examine Tasha and then advised that she be moved to Sickbay to run further tests. The tests were done, and now Tasha was just eager to find out why she felt so awful so that it could be fixed and she could go back to her life.

"I'm not entirely sure, but it looks -" she paused, as though unsure how to proceed.

"Looks like what? Tell me."

"I don't want to get your hopes up -"

"Then it's good news?" Now she was just confused.

"I think so. You see, twenty-four years ago when you gave birth, the placenta probably failed to be expelled completely from your body, causing an infection that led to scarring."

"The reason I can't get pregnant again."

"Exactly. But the scan I just ran shows the scar tissue starting to heal. You're not the first person I've seen today with old scars starting to reverse themselves, but this is the most substantial instance I've seen so far. If this progresses at the same rate, the scarring will be completely gone within two weeks."

Her pain forgotten, she sat straight up and stared at the doctor. "If that happens, does that mean I'd be able to have children again?"

"As I said, I don't want to get your hopes up. The healing appears to be connected to the radiation in the planet's rings, there's no telling what will happen once we leave orbit. But if the healing is completed and it doesn稚 start to reverse once the radiation is no longer affecting you, then you would have no more trouble conceiving than you would have if the damage had never been done."

Tasha heard all of what was said, including the warnings, but even the extensive list of cautions wasn't enough to dull the sudden wave of euphoria that ran through her. Tears of joy ran down her face as she hugged the doctor and then Data.

xxxxxxxxx

It was hard to believe how fast things had changed. Tasha lay in Data's arms in the cavern, musing over everything that had happened in the past few days.

Tasha's healing had progressed with incredible speed, even faster than Beverly's predictions. Though the scarring wasn't completely gone yet, the doctor had told Tasha that she was able to become pregnant, although it would be harder for her to conceive and carry to term than it would if the scarring were completely nonexistent. As with before, even the cautions and reservations they had been given, they had been beyond delighted and spent most of the night apparently trying to prove by exclusion of possibility that Data really couldn't conceive a child the way a human could.

But things had gone bad fast. Picard had finally figured out what was going on, and it wasn't good. The Son'a weren't the only ones trying to get the Ba'ku off their planet. The Federation was involved too. At least, Admiral Dougherty was. The Son'a were trying to harvest the energy in the planet's rings to heal themselves. The Federation wanted a bite at this apple, and perhaps more importantly they needed the Son'a to fight the greater threat of the Dominion.

But everything about it felt wrong to Tasha. While she had always believed in the philosophy that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of a few, she had always believed that applied to voluntary sacrifice or a situation in which an immediate choice needed to be made to save lives. This interpretation wasn't sitting well with her at all.

xxxxxxxxx

It was over now.

Tasha had tried to listen to Geordi and Will's explanation of how they had raced out of the web of radiation that surrounded the Ba'ku planet, but had gotten lost in the complex technical explanations. There was a very good reason she'd never considered becoming an engineer.

It had looked grim for a little while. The Son'a had grown tired of waiting and decided to deploy their collector anyway, an act which would have killed thousands. But the _Enterprise_ crew wasn't ready to take that lying down.

Picard and Data's final move had been nothing short of brilliant, and the irony of how it had worked just sweetened the pot.

Picard had somehow managed to turn the Son'a first officer and gain information about the Son'a systems. Working in conjunction with Data, he had taken a leaf out of the Son'a book and transported the entire crew to a holodeck. By the time they figured it out, it had been too late to stop Picard from disabling the collector.

The discovery that the Son'a were actually descendents of the Ba'ku had shocked all of them, but after the death of their leader, the remaining Son'a had returned home. It had been a sight to see.

But the planet wasn't the only place where old feelings and relationships were starting to reemerge. It was clear to see that the feelings Will and Deanna had been dancing around for years were finally coming out. Tasha hadn't even bothered trying to pretend she hadn't started to walk into a turbolift only to see them locked in a passionate kiss.

All was well again.

**I'm so sorry this took so long, but I've been planning this forever and had to pretty much completely rewrite it to get it right.**

**Please review.**


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine: Earth In Peril

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Earth In Peril**_

"What is it? What's going on?" Tasha didn't even wait until she was fully out of the turbolift to ask, waving the graveyard shift tactical officer away as she took her station.

Picard's face was drawn. "I just got word. The Breen have attacked Earth."

For an instant, the bridge was still and so quiet they could have heard a pin drop. Everyone was silently trying to process what they'd just been told. The news that the Breen had allied with the Dominion hadn't been good, but no one had expected this.

Tasha looked to her husband, half-expecting him to be the voice of reason as he had been so often, to say something. But she realized her mistake as soon as she looked at him. His emotions were still far newer than anyone else's. He was probably working twice as hard to process what he'd just heard.

Tasha swallowed hard and forced herself to speak instead. "What's the status of the conflict?"

"Starfleet's sending everything they've got, including us. Ground and orbital defenses have already been mobilized." The rest of the crew seemed to relax a little, finding comfort in the familiarity of the briefing. "Their target appears to be Starfleet Headquarters. Civilians and non-essential personnel are being evacuated from all likely target areas as we speak, unfortunately the Breen ships are preventing a full planetary evacuation. The best they can do is get as many people as possible to cover."

"What's our assignment?" Tasha asked almost on autopilot.

"We don't have one, per se. The situation keeps changing. We're supposed to meet the fleet at Earth. From there, we'll be issued orders. We may, however, also be expected to take some action without orders. Our priority is to protect the population. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," everyone replied somberly. They were all afraid of what they would find.

xxxxxxxxx

"You should go too." Captain Scott faced the youngest member of his team - of his entire command, for that matter - as the people around them hurried to the transporter pads and the exits to evacuate.

"Captain," she said simply, "you are allowing your emotions to override your judgment. You have said yourself that I am one of the most competent engineers you have." Actually he'd used words far more complimentary than that, but she only wanted to get the point across, not boast about her abilities. "I have also been trained in tactical skills and combat more than most. This is a key facility, you cannot argue that fact. The effort would be best served by my remaining here." She met his eyes. "If you order me to go, I will. But I am asking you not to give that order."

The aging Scottish man let out a long sigh. "All right. Stay. But dinna make me regret this."

"I will endeavor to perform my duties adequately."

He nodded, but once she was out of his office he slumped a little in his chair. "That's not what I meant."

xxxxxxxxx

What struck Tasha most upon landing was the sheer amount of chaos. She'd never seen this sort of thing on Earth before.

The second thing that struck her was the nature of the chaos. She'd spent years of her life around chaos, but most of that had had some military aspect to it, people killing each other. Everyone here seemed only to be scrambling to find their loved ones, or to tend the injured, or assess the damage. She had been told once that crisis could bring out the best as well as the worst in people. Watching this, she didn't doubt it.

By the time they had arrived at Earth, the battle had been all but over. The Breen hadn't been able to stand against what Starfleet had been able to amass, and most of their ships had been destroyed with relatively minimal casualties to Starfleet personnel on board ships. But the damage was done. The Golden Gate Bridge boasted a gaping hole and Starfleet headquarters had been decimated. She felt sick thinking of how many people might have been in there. She only hoped that hadn't happened early on, that they'd had enough warning to evacuate.

Comm systems were down all over the planet, overloaded with the sheer magnitude of transmissions, everyone trying to make sure their family was okay.

"Tasha!"

She heard the voice and turned to see Jim Kirk running her way, fast. She picked up a pace to match his and met him halfway, throwing herself willingly into his arms. As they had both been in space, there wasn't actually that much to have been scared of when it came to each other, but emotions were running high on all sides.

"God, you're okay," she whispered when she could talk again.

"So are you." He held her for a minute more before he let her go. "I'm still trying to find -"

"Your old crew," she finished for him. "Do you know who was on Earth?"

He nodded, pain he was trying desperately to hide creasing his face. "All of them," he said brokenly. "Spock, Bones, Scotty, Sulu, Uhura - all of them."

She hugged him again, this time to comfort him. "Your friends are tough. You have to believe it's going to be okay."

"Easy for you to say."

"No, it's not. I'm talking to myself as much as I'm talking to you. My sister's down here somewhere. But if I let myself expect the worst, I'm not sure I could handle it."

"That's fair." He let her hold him for a moment more before pulling back. "I'm going to keep looking, but, uh, I'll find you later. If they fix the comm system, I'll call you."

"Okay."

He hurried off and she turned back towards the members of her crew that hadn't scattered to join the frenzy yet, just in time to see Deanna embracing a younger girl. She was just close enough to hear her friend say "I thought you were still on Betazed."

She shook her head. "Where have you been? My family moved to Deneva something like a year after you left for the Academy."

"Not on Betazed. Mostly avoiding my mother." Deanna giggled a little but it was tinged with grief. "What are you doing on Earth, anyway?"

"Looking for my sister-in-law. Last we heard she was on Earth."

"Are you two close?" Deanna asked, and Tasha didn't need to be an empath to know she was glad to shift the focus from herself and her own family.

The woman made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "Until yesterday, I didn't even know I had one. Two years we've been married, and I always assumed it was just him and his two brothers. Then I'm watching a news broadcast about the Breen attack and he suddenly says we have to pack up and go to Earth to find his sister." She shrugged her shoulders. "So here we are. And I have no clue how he intends to find her. I certainly can't. Even if I was familiar with her I couldn't find one mind in this morass, and there's no point in even trying since I have no clue what I'd be looking for. But I had to come. It was hard enough not being able to go to my family on Betazed. I wasn't going to make him wait."

A dark-skinned, Vulcan man appeared at the woman's shoulder as if out of nowhere. "Ione," he said simply.

"She's not on the list?"

"No."

The relief that crossed the woman's face told Tasha that the list in question was the list of confirmed deceased. "That's good anyway, right?"

"It means very little, as the list is rather constantly being revised," he replied in the composed, Vulcan way she had suspected he would. "To find her listed would be bad news. Anything else is inconclusive."

"And these are the moments where I'm keenly reminded I married a Vulcan." Ione raised her eyebrows a little. But the man's attention had been focused elsewhere. It took Tasha only a few seconds to realize he was looking right at her.

"Excuse me. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Do you know where my sister is?" he asked bluntly.

She did a bit of a double take. "I'm sorry?"

"If anyone would know, it would most likely be you."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I don't even know who you are."

"Of course, my apologies. It has been some time. I am Elieth."

This took Tasha aback even further. "My God. It has been awhile."

She had never been close to Tuvok's sons, and she hadn't seen any of them at all since she had left the Academy. It was no wonder she hadn't recognized him.

"My sister," he pressed. "Do you know where she is?"

"I'm trying to figure that out myself. I'll find you when I know something."

xxxxxxxxx

The room was littered with Breen corpses.

That was the first thing Montgomery Scott realized when he walked into the reactor room. He was still trying to account for his own people, but he couldn't figure out how all those soldiers had died. Only five other people had stayed behind, two had already been accounted for, and had been nowhere near the reactor room, and he doubted three people could have taken down this many Breen. Not only that but some of the armor seemed to be melted. No one under his command would risk a firefight with weapons turned up high enough to do that so close to the reactor.

Carefully stepping over and around the bodies, he hurried to check the reactor that powered the facility. Most likely the Breen had been looking to tamper with it, to blow the entire building, and just because they hadn't succeeded didn't mean it was fully stable.

He frowned when he stumbled over something at the base of the reactor, glancing down to check what it was. It wasn't a Breen, he would have seen the armor well before he'd tripped over it.

Then he saw it, and he felt his heart clench in despair. "No. Oh, God, no."

The young Vulcan woman he'd worked beside for years lay motionless at the base of the reactor. The left side of her face was horribly burned. He pulled her out from under the reactor, heedless of her injuries, but she didn't even stir. Her chest wasn't rising and falling. Panicked, he felt around her neck. _No, please, no._

Then he felt it. The slightest beat of a pulse. It was weak and irregular but it was there. And then it all came together. She must have triggered some sort of shock pulse in the reactor, thus killing the Breen all in one shot. She wouldn't have been able to get out of the room in time, certainly not if she had to fight her way out, so she had crawled underneath the reactor, attempting to use its own shielding to maximize her chance of survival. _Though she's no fool_, he thought, feeling his heart break a little more. _She must have known her chances weren't good._

But he couldn't keep wallowing. She'd survived this far; her best chance was if he could get her immediate medical attention. It was clear she was too far gone to feel pain so he just gathered her into his arms and sprinted for the nearest transporter pad, whispering to her with what breath he could spare. "Hold on, lassie, hold on, you'll be all right, just hold on."

Starfleet Medical was teeming with so many people it was a miracle they all fit in the building, but it was clear they'd set themselves up to handle the load they were getting.

Scott stopped just long enough to verify that she still had a pulse before waving for a doctor. "She has a pulse but she's not breathing," he explained in a rush to the woman who hurried up to them and helped him ease Asil onto a mobile table.

"How long has she been without oxygen?"

"I dinna know. I only found her a minute or two ago, but heaven knows how long she was there before I did."

"Okay, okay. Can you provide her name, rank, and service number for identification purposes?"

He rattled off the information and she hurriedly typed it onto a PADD. "Is she - is she gonna be okay?" he asked.

"I can't provide information on her condition until I run some tests, and I don't think it's in her best interests for me to take the time to do that now. We'll be placing her on the injured list as soon as possible, and you can find information about her condition there. Now, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. We can't have extra people around, we're just too busy."

"I understand." His accent was thick from his emotions. He squeezed Asil's hand. "You pull through for me, Lieutenant. That's an order."

xxxxxxxxx

Jim almost felt his knees give way under him when he saw the large figure moving in his direction. "Scotty! Scotty!"

The engineer seemed to snap out of his daze. "Jim!"

Kirk hugged the man, and Scotty accepted the embrace gratefully. His emotions were all over the place after seeing his protegee so badly hurt.

"Have you seen anyone else?" Jim asked after a moment's silence. "I'm still trying to find the rest of our old crowd."

Scotty shook his head. "I just came from Engineering Corps, and I'm headed back now. Cleanup. I had to bring one of my engineers in." He nodded towards Starfleet Medical in the background.

"You okay?" Jim had finally figured out that something was off with his friend.

"I'm not sure." He let out a slow breath. "The girl who was hurt today - I tried to convince her to leave. She said she'd go if I ordered her to, but asked me not to." He blinked back tears. "I'm not even sure she's going to live. I should've given the damn order. She'd be fine now if I had."

"I'm sorry." He squeezed his friend's shoulder. "But it's not your fault. That's what command decisions are about. It's never easy, and no matter what you decide there's always something that could go wrong."

"Well, who ever decided I should be in command?"

Jim laughed a little despite himself. "No one ever said it was easy."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha jumped a mile when her PADD started beeping. She'd set it to automatically and continuously scan all available lists for certain names, specifically Asil and anyone with the surname of Paris as well as the married names of both of Tom's sisters and their children. Julia and Natalia Paris had both been placed on the list of confirmed survivors, much to her relief. But this time it was flashing _Casualty List; Match; Injured._

_At least it isn't the list of the deceased. _Drawing a breath, she pressed the button to open the file.

_Asil, Lieutenant_, was the first thing on the page, followed by a service number she barely registered. _Location: Starfleet Medical. Condition: Critical._

Tasha felt her heart sink as she collapsed to her knees, holding the PADD to her chest. "God," she whispered as if the Vulcan girl could hear her. "What did you do to yourself?"

She gathered her strength and stood. She didn't think she could talk, so she tapped out a message to Deanna to get in contact with her friend and tell the woman that her sister-in-law was at Starfleet Medical.

xxxxxxxxx

"Can I help you?"

Tasha turned to look at the woman beside her. The woman couldn't be any older than twenty, and was attired in the blue version of a cadet's uniform. _Probably pre-med_. It made sense. Starfleet Medical would have been pulling in everyone with any medical training to free up the more experienced staff for the things only they could do. She looked just a little familiar, but Tasha brushed it aside. "I'm here to see my sister, she's in critical care." She figured she'd get better results if she claimed to be immediate family, not that it was really a lie anyway.

"Okay, sure. You can come with me."

Tasha followed the woman up to the critical care ward, stopping behind her when she stopped to grab a roster. "What did you say your sister's name was?"

"I didn't." Tasha swallowed, hoping the woman wouldn't send her away when she figured out the truth. "Her name's Asil."

The woman glanced down at the roster, and a look of surprise and something else Tasha couldn't identify crossed her face when she saw the patient description. "Uh huh." She raised her eyebrow. "You really thought you could get all the way up here without anyone figuring it out?"

Tasha shrugged a little. "I hoped so, I guess. But I didn't lie; she _is_ my sister."

The younger woman smiled a little now. "Lucky for you, you happened to run into me, and I get it, the whole family is more than blood thing. I'm adopted," she added at Tasha's inquiring glance. "Same species, but once you accept that DNA isn't everything it doesn't really matter how closely related you are or aren't. Just don't get me in trouble, okay?"

"I won't."

"Through here."

Tasha's breath caught in her throat when she saw Asil. The girl lay still in her bed, a mask over her face hooked up to a tube and a drip connected to her right arm. The skin on her left arm and the left side of her face was patchy and uneven. "What's wrong with her?"

The woman took up the chart. "Third and fourth-degree burns to thirty-two percent of her body. Doctors have already cloned and placed grafts. Oxygen deprivation for an undetermined amount of time, but there doesn't appear to be any significant brain damage."

Tasha let out a breath. "That's good, anyway. What are her chances?"

"Chart doesn't say, and I'm not qualified to make an estimate. I'm sorry, but I really should get back to my post before they miss me."

"No, that's all right, I understand. Just - can you tell me your name?"

She shrugged. "Don't know how much good it will do you, seeing as they're likely to take us pre-med cadets off the rotation as soon as everything's under control, but I'm Jessica Marinette. Call me Jess, though, everyone does."

"Jess."

She stopped just before she would have triggered the automatic door. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

xxxxxxxxx

"Jim."

It wasn't a shout, not exactly. But for him, that voice could cut through pretty much every background noise in the galaxy. He turned and completely unabashedly hugged his oldest friend. "Spock." He couldn't get out more than that one word, whispered into the Vulcan's shoulder as relief poured through him. "Spock."

He realized at some point that he was crying, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Losing any of his crew, especially after having lost Chekov and Chapel while he was in the Nexus, would have been devastating, but losing Spock was the second most painful thing he had ever experienced only because he'd lost his son not a month later. He didn't think he could go through it again.

"I talked to Scotty, he's fine, if a little worked up over someone under his command who got hurt," he reported once he had regained power of speech.

Spock nodded once in acknowledgment. "And I had cause to cross paths with Admiral Sulu. We were unable to converse for any length of time, but he is alive. I have also located Doctor McCoy's name on a list of confirmed survivors. His identity was noted when he volunteered to assist in treating casualties."

Jim sagged even more as a fresh wave of relief washed over him and might have actually collapsed if Spock's arms hadn't been around him. "I've been so worried," he gasped.

"As I suspected you would be."

"We have to find Uhura still." He allowed his one remaining worry to be voiced, even though it cut into that blissful sense of relief.

"Logic would suggest that the more promptly we begin the search, the sooner we are likely to find her."

He grinned. "Yes, Mr. Spock. Logic would seem to suggest that. Let's get to it."

**The scenario in this chapter comes from the DS9 episode**_** The Changing Face of Evil**_**, but all of the dialogue and most of the specifics came out of my own head. The only things I borrowed were the idea of the Breen attacking Earth and the bit about the Golden Gate Bridge and Starfleet HQ.**

**I had to include some of the interpersonal scenes with the TOS characters, partly for a particular reader who I know to be a big TOS fan but also after seeing _Into Darkness_ twice (which has less to do with me being a fangirl and more with me knowing two groups who wanted to see it and couldn't be merged) and watching how well the characters play off each other.**

**The name Elieth for Tuvok's third son is given in expanded universe, as is the idea of him marrying a Betazoid named Ione Kitain.**

**The Jessica Marinette character does eventually have more of a role to play in the story, but not for awhile.**

**Please review.**


	40. Chapter Forty: Together in Tragedy

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty: Together in Tragedy**_

Tasha looked up sharply when she heard footsteps. So far, only one of the doctors had given her any trouble about being there, and that had been during Elieth's brief visit. Much to her surprise, the young Vulcan man had affirmed that "this woman lived with us as a member of our family for several years, I believe she qualifies as an acceptable visitor." It was hardly a warm affirmation of family ties, but it was only knowing that Elieth wouldn't understand that kept her from bursting into tears when he said it. For his part, he had left soon after, not seeing the logic in staying around to watch his sister sleep.

She did a double take when she realized who was there. "Captain Scott!"

He blinked, as though he hadn't even seen her there until she'd spoken. "Commander. What are ye doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

He nodded once, seeming to accept that, before rephrasing his question. "You know her?"

"Almost her entire life. When she was four and I was seventeen, she would follow me around like a little shadow." Tasha laid her hand gently on the unburned side of her sister's face.

"Well, I canna say I've known her that long. But she's one of my best. Actually, she's far and away my best, but I shouldn't say that out loud."

"Do you - do you know what happened?"

"Mostly." He visibly swallowed back his emotions. "She saved a lot of lives, that I'm sure of. The Breen would've blown the whole complex if she hadn't stopped them."

Tasha nodded numbly. "What went wrong?"

He shook his head, letting out a choked noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "Nothing. She did what she did knowing there was a good chance it'd be the last thing she'd ever do."

"But it wasn't ," Tasha replied sharply. "She's still here. She's still fighting."

He nodded, an impossibly sad smile crossing his face. "Aye, that she is."

Tasha's combadge chose that moment to flicker to life. "Data to Yar. Tasha, come in, please."

"I'm here, Data. What is it?"

"I must see you immediately. I am outside Starfleet Medical now. It is important."

"On my way. Out." She looked over at Scott. "Would you, if you're not busy -"

"Of course I'll stay with her. We wouldna want her to be alone when she wakes."

Tasha nodded her thanks and made her way out front. As promised, Data was waiting for her. The somber look on his face was all she needed to know it wasn't good.

"Data," she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer, "what is it?"

xxxxxxxxx

The Paris household was somber. Grief seemed to hang in the air like a veil.

Owen and Julia were holding each other, both openly crying. Moira was leaning on her husband while at the same time holding both of her children. Bryan Dudley, Kathleen's husband, sat staring into empty space as though he couldn't believe the world still existed, holding four-year old Hannah in his lap and absently stroking her hair. His other three children were standing nearby, huddled together. Ten-year-old Lisa was sobbing in the arms of her sixteen-year-old brother. Patrick had tears running down his own face as he tried to comfort her. Twelve-year-old Andrea stood a little apart from her sister and brother, apparently too shell-shocked to cry. They were all trying to process what had happened, just as Tasha was trying to process what she'd heard.

Kathleen was gone.

Data had been able to fill in a few of the details based on official records. It appeared that a squadron of Breen had attempted to break into the shelter where Kathleen, her children, and Moira's children had been hiding out. Security had tried to hold off the Breen to allow the occupants to evacuate to a ground transport but had been outnumbered. Kathleen had picked up a phaser rifle and started firing into the mass of Breen on a wide beam setting, giving her children and Moira's, along with countless others a chance to get on the transport but taking multiple hits in the process. A member of the transport crew had risked his life to run out and drag the grievously injured woman aboard, but she had died of her wounds before they could get her to hospital.

Tasha looked over at Owen and Julia again, feeling her heart break for them. She couldn't imagine what they'd been through the last few years. Learning one of their children was missing, coming to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead, and then getting him back only to lose another child a scant year later. She reached behind her, seeking out Data's hand. He bypassed the hand altogether, pulling her backwards into his arms instead. No one spoke. No one seemed capable of speech.

xxxxxxxxx

Evening found Tasha back at her sister's bedside. She knew the rest of the Paris family would be sticking together that night, but as much as she wanted to be with them, she needed to be here. If Asil woke, she wanted to be there. If she didn't - Tasha didn't want to even go there, but if Asil didn't wake, she needed every minute she could get with the girl.

A soft, uneven sound came from the hall, like someone shuffling along with a cane. The door was opened, and Tasha did a double-take when she saw who was aboard. She'd seen him in person only once, and at a distance at that, but he was a living legend.

"D-doctor McCoy," she stammered. She wasn't usually so at a loss for words, but after everything that had happened that day, she just didn't have the energy to form them.

"For God's sake, I'm here to see the patient, not be gawked at like some zoo attraction."

"Of course, sir." She was just grateful he didn't expect more talk from her.

"Scott told me about this one. Damn near blew herself up stopping the Breen. You'd think a person from a race of logical people would have more sense."

Tasha knew he meant nothing by it. That was just his way, Jim had told her countless stories about the doctor who had served with him. But something about the words triggered the emotions she hadn't been able to express beforehand, and before she could stop she finally started to cry.

The doctor stopped what he was doing and gently rested a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, now, it's okay," he offered, his voice much softer than it had been a mere moment ago.

"My cousin is dead," she sobbed. "And my sister could be dying. What's okay about that?"

"I'm sorry." He touched her shoulder again.

"Is she going to be okay?" Tasha whispered. "Please tell me she's going to be okay."

"I can't assure you of something I don't know. I'm sorry."

"How bad?" she choked out.

"Well, that Vulcan resilience is good for something. If she were human, she'd be brain-damaged or dead from oxygen deprivation alone. Tests show normal neural activity for a comatose patient, so if she does wake, that Vulcan mind of hers ought to be fully intact. Those burns are pretty bad, but nothing grafting and surgery can't handle. It's what we can't see that's the worst. Whatever she did, it created what I can guess was a sub-atomic particle shower, and after surviving the initial blast, the damage was left untreated for an indeterminate amount of time until she was found. That's what we're fighting. And she's fighting too. That's obvious."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Very good. You'd be surprised how much of a difference patient attitude can make in a situation like this. All the same, has her family been contacted?"

"I _am_ her family." She held that defiance for a moment before relenting. "Her brother knows. He can call her mother." She stroked Asil's face gently, an action she'd been repeating almost on autopilot for the last few hours. "Her father's out of comm range. God, this would kill him if he knew." Her tears were still falling. "I can't lose her," she whispered. "I can't ."

Another gentle touch to her shoulder. "Hey, now. If there's one thing I learned from that green-blooded hobgoblin on the _Enterprise_, it's that Vulcans are as strong and resilient as they come." He gave her another look. "Us mere humans, on the other hand, need to take a little more care. You look like you haven't slept in days."

"I was woken - the night before last by the Red Alert sirens," she said after a moment's thought. Was it really only forty-eight hours ago that no one had even contemplated the idea of the Breen attacking Earth? "I've been too busy to sleep since."

"You say you're family?"

She nodded, prepared to defend herself. But he spoke before she could. "I'll take your word for it. I'll have someone bring a bed in for you. The last thing I need is another patient because a visitor worked herself to exhaustion."

Tasha met his eyes then, and what he saw behind the tears was possibly the sincerest look of gratitude he'd ever laid eyes on. "Thank you."

xxxxxxxxx

"Scotty."

The engineer looked up to find his old Captain standing there. "What is it?"

"I thought you'd like to know, everyone from our old crew is accounted for. Took Spock and me a while to track Uhura down, but it turns out she's fine, just hurried to make herself useful and ended up in the most remote posting on the entire planet or something."

"Aye, that's good," the other man replied absently.

Jim sat down next to his friend. "You're really upset about her, huh? You must really care about this one."

"She's a child," he said softly. "At least ten years younger than the next youngest person there. She's so bright. The first time I saw her I knew she was no ordinary engineer, not even by Engineering Corps standards." He sighed heavily, in a way that suggested he was using that as an alternative to crying. "I canna stop thinking about Peter."

"Your nephew."

"Just like him, she stayed when they all left. She did her duty, above and beyond, knowing she'd likely die." He'd never erase the memory of that awful day when his young nephew had died in his arms. "I could've stopped her! Why didn't I?"

"My guess? Because you knew she was right."

"What?"

"Look, I may not know her, but I know Vulcans. She didn't just ask to stay. She gave you a reasoned-out argument. And you let her stay because what she said made sense."

"I told her not to let me regret it."

"A fact you can remind her of _when_ she wakes up. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere that isn't here. You're drowning in your own misery."

xxxxxxxxx

It was four days after the attack, and Asil's condition was still tentative. McCoy, on another visit, had told Tasha that, since Asil was on only minimal mechanical support, every day she survived increased her chances as the damage began to heal. Elieth had been by once, and Scott had stopped in each morning since Tasha had first encountered him.

But the figure standing in the doorway was neither of these, and it wasn't a doctor either. If seeing McCoy had taken her aback a bit, this completely struck her dumb. It took her several seconds just to engage her vocal cords. "T'Pel."

Tasha wondered if it was the woman's Vulcan control that allowed her to act unsurprised, or if Elieth had told her the woman would be there. T'Pel said nothing, so Tasha finally managed to form a full sentence. "I'll leave you alone."

"Tasha."

"Yes?"

"I would have a word with you later, if you are willing."

"All right." She supposed she owed the woman at least a chance to explain herself.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha barely refrained from pacing or fidgeting while looking at the woman across from her. She had absolutely no idea what to say.

"I'm surprised you'd want to see me," she said finally, deciding she ought to address the proverbial elephant in the room right off. "I know you regret having had me around, don't deny it."

Her eyebrow raised ever so slightly. "Asil told you of our disagreement."

"Yes."

"I will not deny what I said, however I can attempt to explain, if you would allow me."

"I owe you that much, at least."

"I was concerned for my daughter. I am still."

"Why?"

"Because her behavior is not typical of Vulcans."

"What's so wrong about that? Everyone's different. Even Vulcans. So what if she's a little more obviously different?"

"Tasha," she began, then paused. "What I am about to tell you is something my children do not even know, and I will ask you not to tell anyone else. When I was young, only a decade or so older than Asil is now, a person I cared for did something to bring him into conflict with the leaders of our culture. I believed that he was in the right, and so I stood with him, and for doing so I was ostracized by many in our community. Including my own family."

"I'm sorry." Sincerity was clear in every word she spoke. "I truly am. But what does this have to do with me? Or Asil?"

"As time went on, the people around me began to forgive my errors, but it has never been forgotten. Tuvok and I did what we could to raise our children to be truly Vulcan, so that there would be no doubt as to whether they were meant to be a part of our society. So that my mistakes would not taint them. Asil, and to a lesser degree Elieth, were never entirely well-suited to that. Elieth's logic was often troubled and inconsistent, leading to a discord within him - his wife, though I was hesitant to accept her at first, has helped him much in that, bringing to him a peace of mind he never had."

"And Asil?"

"Asil's situation will not be so easily resolved. She is firm in her logic, but her perceptions are different than most. She has been compared often to her father, but she is also very much as I was at her age."

"You think she's likely to make the same mistakes you did."

"There have been those who expected each of my children to make the mistakes I did. I am, at this point, quite certain that my eldest two sons will not do so. And, as you said, even Vulcans are not all exactly alike, and Elieth does not have the sort of personality to become seriously involved with something, especially something controversial, unless it affects him directly, and as he has been on Deneva for several years and will likely remain for the foreseeable future, that is unlikely to happen. Asil I am not so certain about, and considering the suspicion she already falls under, I do not believe our society would be so forgiving of her." She met Tasha's eyes. "I am sorry that I hurt you. That was never my intention. I only wanted to protect my own family."

"You said I was your family," she whispered. "You said I had a family with you as long as I needed one. I loved you." Tears brimmed in her eyes.

"I am sorry," she said again. "I did not realize you would still require what I had offered so long after you reached maturity."

"You're the only family I'd ever had. Of course I still needed you." She turned her head to blink back her tears.

"If it makes any difference to you, I never truly regretted allowing you into our home."

"Then why did you say -"

"I regretted what I saw in Asil, and I believed the presence of a human she looked up to was a large part of that. Your presence, in and of itself, was not at issue. Only the result was."

"Maybe not."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a debate human philosophers have had for centuries. Nature versus nurture, the question of to what degree traits come from the way a person is raised and to what degree they are innate, even when not taught. I always told Asil she's her father's daughter, but you just told me she's like you were at her age. I don't think she gets that from me. I think she gets that from you."

T'Pel gave a very slight nod. "Perhaps. I had not considered it. May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"If Asil told you what I said, why is this the first time you spoke to me about it? Knowing you, I would expect you to have contacted me."

"I - I felt guilty," she admitted. "Even if we weren't thinking of the same reason, I thought you had a reason to oppose my presence in your family."

"Why?"

"I've tried to see Asil as a sister, and to a strong degree I do. But at the same time, I felt like I was taking your daughter from you." She drew a shaky breath, absently fingering the small ornament she always wore. "Before I knew you, I had a child, a little girl. She lived less than two days before she died in my arms. Had she lived, she would be a year younger than Asil is today." She dropped her gaze to the table. "I tried not to see Asil that way, but when she was a little girl, sometimes I couldn't help myself. I'd hold her in my arms, and I could imagine, just for a second, that it was my Eva I was holding instead."

"And your grief is reason for me to oppose your presence in my home?"

"That I tried to use your daughter to replace my own _is_."

"No." To Tasha's surprise, the woman reached out and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You never tried to take my child from me. I cannot begin to comprehend the extent of your grief, but nothing you did harmed my daughter, and nothing you did interfered with the familial relationship that existed between my daughter and myself. If anything, I did far more to damage that bond than you."

Tasha wiped her eyes on her hand and looked up. "She wants to fix it, you know. She never tried to hide that."

"At this moment, you are more familiar with my daughter than I. What does she want from me? Do you know?"

"If you want to start fixing things with her, the first thing to do is drop your expectations. She's already made it clear she doesn't intend to meet them, and the more you try to insist the more you push her away. Try to rebuild the relationship unconditionally, without seeming to require her bending to your point of view as a condition of this rebuilding." Tasha smiled just a little. "You were willing to permanently alienate your parents to follow your convictions. Your husband was willing to marry someone who had nearly been exiled. Do you really think the daughter of parents like that would be capable of anything less?"

"No," T'Pel admitted. "Most likely not."

xxxxxxxxx

She didn't immediately know where she was. She remembered being in the reactor room, trying to manually activate security measures, when the Breen had broken in. She had known she couldn't fight with conventional weapons, but in the same moment, she had never been more aware that the reactor, in the right hands, was a substantial weapon. The Breen knew that; she had no doubt they intended to use it. She would have to get to it first.

Unlike what she believed the Breen were likely planning, she could not simply detonate it; it would take the entire building with it at the very least. But she knew this technology better than they did. A precisely modulated shock pulse would kill every Breen in the room without damaging any equipment and dissipate too quickly to harm anyone more than approximately a hundred meters away. There was no time to formulate an alternate plan, even if a possibility existed. A shock pulse would almost certainly end her life as well, but what was one life if it saved countless others? If they detonated the reactor, her life was over in any case.

In the brief few moments between the press of the button and the actual activation of the pulse, she had slid underneath the reactor as best she could. If there was anywhere in the room she had even the most miniscule chance of survival, it was there, behind the reactor's shielding. She had heard the pulse activate and felt the pain a moment later, unspeakable agony across her body. When the darkness had tugged at her she had not resisted. If the shielding was not sufficient, her own force of will alone would not keep her alive, and to fight unconsciousness would only be to prolong her suffering. She had let go, sinking into oblivion. And then there had been nothing. Until now. So she was alive, at least. That was more than she had expected.

She felt someone touch her cheek, and then she felt a sensation as though something that had been on her face was gone. Something was wrapped around her hand. With more effort than she might have believed possible for such a small action, she moved her fingers a little, trying to figure out what it was.

"Asil?" The voice reached her as though through a tunnel. "Do that again!"

_An illogical request. The action serves no purpose. _But the voice was so insistent that she complied anyway. The thing around her hand - _it is another hand_, she realized - tightened. She mimicked the motion and felt another hand on her forehead.

"Come on, sweetheart." The voice was more recognizable now, and not so distant. "You're almost there. Come on."

_Almost where?_ She didn't know where she was going or why. But the hands had to be a guide. She grounded herself in them, trying to use them to find her way to wherever it was she was supposed to be going. _Where am I going? Where am I now?_ With an extreme effort, she forced her eyelids to raise.

Consciousness returned in a rush and with it an awareness of where she was and what was happening around her. She recognized her surroundings as some sort of hospital. And the voice - even before she followed her eyes to the person attached to the hands, she knew who it was. That woman's name was the first word out of her lips. "Tasha?"

"Oh, God." Tasha's hand moved from her forehead to her cheek, and she bent to kiss her sister on the forehead, heedless of the tears spilling on the girl's face. "You're okay."

"That statement would seem to be contradicted by my presence in a hospital room."

"You're alive and you're awake. You've been lying here in a coma for two weeks. I think that qualifies as a significant step forward."

"Yes, perhaps." She shifted a little. "I admit, I am - surprised to be alive."

"You're damn right! What were you _thinking_?"

"I was thinking that my options were extremely limited. Had the Breen succeeded and caused the reactor to explode, I would have been killed in the resulting blast in any case, and others would have died with me."

"You have an explanation for everything, don't you?"

"As I would be unlikely to do anything for which there was not a rational explanation -"

"All right, all right." Tasha couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping. "I take your point."

"How long has it been?"

"Nine days since the attack."

"Have you been here this entire time?"

"Most of it. Captain Scott dropped in a few times, and your brother's been by once a day for updates."

"My brother?" She looked mildly surprised. "Which?"

"Elieth. I think he'd like to talk with you, now you're awake." She drew a short breath. "Your mother's been by too."

"My mother was here?"

"Elieth called her. She does want to talk to you, you know."

"Why?"

_How to explain?_ "Sometimes, after something like this happens, people start to think differently about conflicts. When they realize they could have lost the person they were fighting with, the fight itself doesn't seem so significant. Anyway, I don't think it was as bad as you two made it out to be."

"What do you mean?"

"Asil, you and your mother are two very stubborn personalities. You had a difference of opinion that turned into a years-long falling out because of the simple fact that neither of you could give an inch - figuratively speaking," she added on, remembering who she was talking to. "She's already apologized to me. She didn't mean anything by it."

"Then why would she say it?"

"You'll have to ask her." Tasha knew it would go easier if Asil knew the truth, but she wasn't about to betray T'Pel's confidence. "I'll call her. For now, you should rest."

"It appears I have done little else for the past nine days."

"And if the doctors have anything to say about it, it's going to be a few more days." Tasha couldn't help but smile at the banter. Everything was normal again.

**Sorry this took so long, but it was a lot of ground to cover!**

**I know I'm probably mean holding out for a grand reveal on what exactly T'Pel did, but I'm the author so I can hold out as much as I want!**

**As for Kathleen, I felt like it would be incredibly unrealistic not to have someone close to the main cast of this story die. Originally it was going to be one of Kirk's crew but I couldn't bring myself to do it.**

**Please review.**


	41. Chapter Forty-One: The Turning Tide

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty-One: The Turning Tide**_

"Jadzia!"

The Trill turned, and it took Tasha only a moment to realize she looked different, and another to realize why. "Looks like there's something you forgot to tell me."

Jadzia blushed, one hand moving down to her rather round belly. "I was going to, but I could never find the right time to call. There was always some disaster."

"How far along are you?"

"Two months, but Trill and Klingon pregnancies are both shorter than the human variety. Julian thinks it'll be around four or five months more." She smiled. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure."

"Worf and I talked it over, and we're planning to ask Julian to be the baby's godfather. I mean, he was at least as much a part of creating this baby as Worf and I were, and I know he still sort of has feelings for me - less so now that he's got Jenna, though," she added with a grin, "but I've lived eight lifetimes, I've been in love more times than I can count, I know something like that doesn't disappear overnight. That he would do this for me under the circumstances means a lot to me."

"Why haven't you asked him yet?" Tasha pressed. "Sounds like you've got it all figured out to me."

"Worf keeps saying the same thing. I just want to do something bigger and better than just asking. Oh, Worf thinks it's silly, but he can't very well go around me in this, it was my idea and I'm much closer to Julian than he is. He keeps threatening to if I don't do it, but I know he won't actually. In any case, I'm more worried he'll pull me from this mission, but I don't really think he'll do that either."

While Tasha was certain Jadzia could handle herself, from a certain point of view she understood Worf's concern. Win or lose, the mission they were heading out on in just a few hours was going to be the last of the war. They had prepared everything they had for this final strike, and they weren't oblivious enough to expect to come out without heavy casualties. They could only hope it wouldn't be for nothing.

Already the Dominion's hold was starting to weaken. Following his attack on the Orb in the Temple, Dukat had gone off the radar completely, and his second-in-command, Damar, promoted to leader of the Cardassian forces, had started to realize he was in over his head and allied with people he didn't particularly like and who couldn't care less how many Cardassians died in their bid for control, and, with the help of Kira Nerys of all people, Damar had started a rebellion. Most of his original forces had been obliterated, but Damar himself, Kira, and Garak, along for the ride, had survived. Damar had gained some sort of hero status, and was slowly inspiring a people's revolution. They were hoping it would be enough to give them the slim edge they would need.

"You sure?" Tasha replied with a slight edge of surprise. "Worf can be pretty stubborn when he wants to be. I could see you standing up to him, even winning, but him not even trying?"

"The last time I stayed behind off a mission, I came close to being killed on the station. I think he figures that as long as I'm going to be in danger, it might as well be where he can keep an eye on me."

"If I were you," Tasha said somberly, "I'd come up with a way to ask Julian before we leave."

Jadzia swallowed hard. "I know. I'm just - I feel like if I wait, I'm saying that Worf, Julian, and I are all going to make it through this, that I'll have another chance because we _have_ a future after this war. It's been so long since any of us really thought about what our lives might be after the war, it seemed like it would just go on forever. And now 'after the war' means the day after tomorrow, and it's hard to fathom, and there's still the chance we won't live to see it."

"You can't think that way." She squeezed her friend's shoulder. "Sisko's taken the _Defiant_ through more battles in this war than anyone. Miles told me you guys took it into a battle with half the systems non-operational a few years ago."

Jadzia smiled. "We did. And I'm convinced to this day it was a stupid idea, but Benjamin was on a crusade. It was get on board or get out of the way, and we decided that we weren't going to let him go off alone on such a reckless mission. And you're right, we got through it. _How_ I'm not sure, but we did."

Tasha's combadge chirped. "That's my cue," she said softly. "I'll see you _when_ we both make it back."

"Same to you." Jadzia hugged Tasha tightly. "And I'll - I'll think about what you said."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha and Data stood together in front of the transporter pad. They had dismissed the operator for a few minutes; Data would be operating the transporter himself, giving them a precious few moments alone together.

Tasha hadn't been able to refuse when Admiral Ross had asked her to be on the bridge of the lead ship and run tactical for the fleet. If her skill could save even one life, it was her duty to try. But it meant that, unlike pretty much every other married couple in the fleet, their fates weren't linked.

"You keep this ship together for me," she whispered into his shoulder, her arms wound tightly around his neck. "I want to see all of you at the victory celebration."

Once upon a time, Data might have remarked on the fact that a victory celebration was anything but certain, but his emotion chip had allowed him to understand what she was doing here. "And you must ensure that the Admiral's ship also reaches the final line intact. Apart from the tactical ramifications of losing so many of Starfleet's best minds, now that you are capable of becoming pregnant, I would very much like to have a conversation about creating a family."

"I'd like that," she whispered back. "I love you."

"And I love you."

She pulled back with great reluctance. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay."

She stepped slowly onto the transporter pad. The last thing she saw before the ship faded out was Data's face, his eyes locked on her as he operated the controls from memory.

xxxxxxxxx

"What's the news from Cardassia?" Tasha asked.

"Not much of it," Ross replied. "But Damar is managing to stir up resistance. How successful is a different story."

"What do we know?"

"A handful of civilians, we believe including Damar, knocked out power to the Capitol for a half-hour." He breathed a soft sigh. "The Dominion retaliated by destroying Lakarian City."

"_What?_ What do you mean destroying?"

"Completely leveled it. An estimated two million civilians killed. They've threatened to destroy another city for every act of sabotage committed."

"My God," Tasha whispered, feeling suddenly faint. Images ran through her head. _Bodies in the street buildings leveled to the ground people screaming weapons fire it never stops anyone could be next_

"Are you all right, Commander?"

She forced herself to focus. "I'm fine."

"You're whiter than this bulkhead."

"Just some bad memories." She swallowed. "So tactically, that could be a huge mistake on the Dominion's part."

"How do you mean?"

"They think they're ensuring the Cardassians' loyalty, but loyalty brought about through fear will never be genuine, and doing it this close to a battle will bring about no end of problems. They'll be distracted by thoughts of the massacre and resentful of the Dominion for causing it. Even if they fight for them, they won't be at their best. I'm not saying don't fight them, but don't give them more than we need to hold them off, especially not if it means spreading ourselves too thin against the Jem'Hadar and the Breen."

"Understood, Commander."

xxxxxxxxx

"_Sisko to all hands. Prepare to engage the enemy._"

The transmission came through the comm, and everyone on the bridge drew in a collective breath. A moment later, it seemed as if everything happened at once.

The Federation fleet tried to hold formation at first, but that proved to be a lost cause. Tasha was watching multiple screens at once, trying to keep an eye on the Federation and their allies and watch for weaknesses in the Dominion line. She was calling maneuvers as fast as she could think them up, but so far it was still only an even match. It had been Tasha's idea to divide the army into wings and to assign each wing a flagship to issue additional orders, but even that was only keeping the volume of orders she needed to give to the amount she could actually speak aloud without needing to distort the laws of time.

A large explosion flashed across their screens, and everyone on the bridge winced as they realized the Romulan flagship had been reduced to debris. Ross turned to Tasha. "I'll call this one. You stay on the rest of the fleet."

Tasha nodded. She heard Ross talking with Sisko and Martok, and then he turned to her. "Commander, their line is -"

"Weak in the middle, I heard you. I'm on it."

"Sisko's heading out with his sector to try and keep the Romulan line from falling apart."

"Understood. I'll send a few more ships to join him. Command to _Fearless _and _Odyssey, _can you see the _Defiant_?"

The ships she'd called out confirmed.

"Break off from the main fleet and take your wings in with the _Defiant. _If the Romulan line collapses we're in trouble."

Tasha's screen lit up all of a sudden. The Cardassian ships were breaking out of the Dominion fleet and pulling together in their own formation. She barely had time to wonder what they were up to before they came about and began firing on the fleet they had just pulled out of.

A collective gasp went up on the bridge, but Tasha was ahead of them. She scrambled to find the Cardassians' radio frequency. "Cardassian fleet, this is Lieutenant Commander Natasha Yar aboard the command ship. Do you read?"

A voice came back through her comm. "_Loud and clear, Commander. We've pledged our lives, one and all, to free Cardassia from the hold of the Dominion insurgents and to take retribution for what was done to our people in Lakarian City. We have a common enemy, Commander, and we will fight alongside your fleet to defeat them, whatever it takes._"

Tasha glanced to Ross, who was nodding. "On behalf of Starfleet and the united Alpha Quadrant fleet, I accept your offer of alliance."

"_Our ships are yours, Commander, for the purpose of this fight._"

"Acknowledged." She opened a channel to the fleet. "All hands, this is the command ship. The Cardassians have joined our fleet - and," she added as her screen lit up again, "the Dominion is pulling back towards Cardassia Prime."

Ross waved to Tasha to cut off the channel. "Regroup and await your orders," she instructed, then turned it off. "Admiral?"

"Hail Martok and Sisko."

"On screen."

"I never thought I'd say this," Ross said as the two people he'd asked to speak to came up on the viewscreen, "but thank god for the Cardassians."

"As I predicted, the day is ours," Martok added.

But Sisko, more reserved, said what Tasha was thinking. "Not yet it isn't."

"Ben," Ross protested, "we've driven the Dominion back into Cardassia Prime. We can keep them bottled up there indefinitely."

"Admiral," Tasha broke in. "All due respect, I agree with Captain Sisko. The Dominion fleet is weak, disorganized, trying to pick up the pieces after suddenly losing a chunk of their fighting force. We won't get another chance like this."

"What if they use this time to rebuild their fleet?" Sisko added. "Tasha's right. This is the best chance we have to take them down."

"The Dominion has displayed an ability to build ships at an impressive rate," Martok added. "We should continue the attack before they have that opportunity."

"At what cost?" Ross asked. "We've already lost a fourth of our fleet."

"And we must see to it that those soldiers did not die in vain," Martok replied.

Tasha joined in again. "If we stop now, we'll only have to do this again. A month, six months, a year from now, maybe, but we'll be right back here, and we'll only lose more people if we give them a chance to pull together a stronger force to send against us."

"Admiral, with the Cardassians joining us, we have an opportunity to put an end to this war once and for all," Sisko pointed out. "Ultimately, that's what we all want here."

"All right, gentlemen. We press on. Commander, address the fleet."

She nodded, cutting off the channel with Sisko and Martok and reopening the fleet-wide one. "All hands, this is the flagship. I know we're all tired and we've taken heavy losses, but we _cannot_ falter now. We have this one chance to crush the Dominion and make them pay for all they've taken from us." An image of Kathleen Paris' face flashed into her mind, and she swallowed hard before continuing. "And we can do it. We are _stronger_ than they are. _We can stop them here, before they have a chance to take any more from us._" She punched every word of that last sentence. "And we can do that by taking all the grief we have, all the anger, and putting _every bit of it_ into this last strike. So let's make them regret the day they ever came through the wormhole."

She was aware of everyone on the bridge staring at her, and she felt suddenly self-conscious. She had only meant to give the ships their orders; the little motivational speech had come to her out of nowhere. She looked down to her console quickly. "All ships, fall into formation and prepare to engage Warp Six towards Cardassia Prime."

As the ships scurried into formation, Ross turned to Tasha. "Some speech, Commander."

"I think I've watched too many old battle movies," she said ruefully. "My cousin was really into them."

"I didn't mean that sarcastically, Commander. I admit I was caught off guard by that, but what you said got them focused and worked up for this fight. And if that's what we're doing, that's what we're going to need. Now why don't you start working on how we're going to win this fight?"

A small smile came through on her features. "Yes, sir."

xxxxxxxxx

If she had thought everything was happening at once in at the start of the battle, that was nothing compared to what they got when they dropped out of warp around Cardassia. The Dominion might have known they had nowhere to go, but they also knew this was to be their last stand. Tasha also knew that the Dominion's soldiers had no concept of self-preservation, and she doubted the Breen were much better. They would fight to the last man rather than surrender without orders, even if they were hopelessly outnumbered. On the surface, meanwhile, Dominion forces were destroying Cardassia, once city at a time. The combined Alpha Quadrant fleet was fighting hard, but so were the Dominion. Once again, Tasha was calling orders as fast as she could come up with them, barely having time to call one before she had to jump on someone else.

"_Fearless_, pull your wing back and - _Fearless_, can you hear me? _Defiant_, stand by a second. _Fearless, _respond! Jim, get your ships out of there! What the hell are you doing? This is no time to be a hero, and I need to know you're going to be where I tell you to or it throws everything off and I'm running an entire battle here, I don't have time to figure out what you're up to! Thank you. Come about sixty degrees and fall in beside the _Washington_, they're heavily outnumbered over there. _Defiant_, repeat your last message."

Jadzia's voice came through the comm. "_Major Kira and the Cardassian army have taken over Dominion headquarters on Cardassia Prime and taken the Dominion commander hostage. Odo's on his way down to try and talk terms with her - he's the only member of our entire army she even might listen to._"

"Understood, _Defiant_, but we can't stop fighting until they do. Wings sixty-five through seventy, come about to bearing one-five-three mark seven and engage the Breen at that location. Wings eight, thirteen, and twenty through twenty-eight, come about bearing eight-nine-seven mark two one and engage orbital weapons platforms at that location. Romulan wings one through ten, come about to -"

But all at once, the fierce fire from the Dominion forced ceased. Tasha hurriedly opened the fleet-wide channel. "Alpha Quadrant fleet, cease fire. Repeat, cease fire."

"We're being hailed from the surface," the communications officer reported.

"On screen," Ross ordered.

The screen flashed on, and Odo stood beside a woman with poorly-shaped features not unlike his own that Tasha recognized as the commander of the Dominion forces in the Alpha Quadrant. Behind them Tasha saw Kira, Garak, a couple of Cardassian soldiers, and one Cardassian in civilian clothing that Tasha guessed had to be Damar.

"You command the Federation forces?" she asked, sounding tired.

"I do," Ross replied.

"On behalf of the Dominion forces in the Alpha Quadrant," she said softly, "I surrender."

"She's agreed to stand trial for her actions," Odo added.

"Conditions?" Admiral Ross asked suspiciously.

"Only one," Odo replied. "I will return to the Founders' homeworld to impart the cure for the illness that is killing them."

Tasha knew about that. The Founders had been infected with some sort of virus that was slowly breaking down their body structures. Starfleet had been notably silent on where it came from, but Tasha could understand how that could have been the final push that convinced the Dominion, already facing defeat, to surrender gracefully rather than go down trying to take as many enemies with them as possible.

"Then -"

"The war is over, Admiral."

Odo's words, spoken with such certainty, plunged the entire bridge into silence. It was something everyone had waited for for so long and no one had believed was going to happen anytime soon.

Ross drew a deep breath. "Commander Yar," he said softly, "tell the fleet."

"Yes, sir." She opened the fleet-wide channel again. "Attention all hands. This is Lieutenant Commander Natasha Yar. As of 2234 hours today, the Dominion have surrendered to the Federation. All ships, stand down. Repeat, stand down. The Dominion have surrendered." She drew a breath before repeating the words Odo had just said. "The war is over."

The silence on the comm channel was as absolute as the silence on the bridge had been. Then Jim Kirk's voice came across. "Confirm, Commander. You said the war is over?"

"That's what I said, Captain."

Jim let out a triumphant cry. That was all it took for the silence to break, and cheers and joyful exclamations came through from so many channels Tasha had to mute her audio input before it deafened her.

"Commander." Ross gestured to her. "With me."

She followed him down the corridor. "Sir?"

"We're beaming down to the surface to analyze the situation there. I'll have Sisko and Martok meet us there."

xxxxxxxxx

Ross looked vaguely nauseated when they materialized on the surface, and the same look was reflected in Sisko and Jadzia's faces. But that was nothing compared to Tasha's reaction. She went completely white as soon as she saw what they were standing in the middle of, stumbled a little ways off, fell to her knees, and was violently sick.

"Commander!" Ross called out, concerned, but it was Jadzia who hurried to her friend's side, holding her shoulder.

"I thought _I_ was the one who was supposed to be getting sick," she commented wryly, but concern and compassion were written in her face. "You going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." She took the woman's extended hand and stood on shaky legs. "I just - haven't seen anything like this in years."

Jadzia's eyes softened even more when she realized what Tasha meant. "You sure you're okay?" She put an arm around her friend's shoulder. "You don't really need to be here."

"Yes," she replied firmly. "I do."

Jadzia led Tasha back to the group, still standing close to her, a little protectively. Martok seemed to have missed this altogether, or have decided to miss this, to preserve his friend's dignity from a Klingon point of view. He was pouring Klingon bloodwine into mugs. Jadzia just shook her head when it was offered, indicating her swollen belly as an explanation, and Tasha still felt too sick to even think about drinking something so strong.

"This is a moment worth savoring," Martok declared. "To victory, hard fought and well earned."

But only Martok drank. Sisko and Ross just stared at their mugs. "What's wrong?" the Klingon pressed.

"Suddenly, I'm not thirsty." Sisko said shortly.

"Neither am I," added Ross.

"Before you waste too many tears, remember, these are Cardassians lying dead at your feet. Bajorans would call this poetic justice."

Tasha and Jadzia both turned a glare on Martok. Sisko was even more forthright. "That doesn't mean I have to drink a toast over their bodies." He and Ross poured the drink on the ground, and the four of them walked off to meet their troops in what had been Dominion headquarters.

A few dozen more people were already there. Tasha spotted Garak right away, talking to Julian. He, like all the Cardassians, looked rather stricken.

The man Tasha had seen on the viewscreen approached them; Ross nodded to him. "Legate Damar."

Tasha looked at Damar, half expecting to feel fear, as she always did when she looked at a Cardassian male. But their eyes met there, and she read a deep, consuming pain in his eyes, a pain she remembered well from her own childhood, and she felt only sympathy. An understanding passed between them in that moment.

Kira was talking to Sisko, though she turned when Jadzia approached and her face lit up as she took in the Trill's appearance; Kira must have been with the Cardassians long enough that Jadzia hadn't been able to tell the Bajoran woman she was pregnant. They embraced each other, both laughing with joy now. Ross was standing with Odo and the Dominion commander, probably arranging prisoner transport. That left Tasha and Damar standing alone, face to face. Tasha broke the silence first. "If we'd been standing here a month ago, I would have been terrified of you," she admitted softly.

He regarded her, and there was compassion in his features. "Our soldiers treated you badly," he surmised. "If there is one thing I've learned over the past few months, working with Major Kira, it's that there were many things we did during the Occupation that were unforgivable. I would not blame you for being afraid."

"But I'm not," she replied. "Not anymore."

"No, I can see that. You understand what I'm feeling right now, I can see it in your eyes. How, I don't know, but -"

"For all humans like to put down Cardassians, or Romulans or Klingons or whoever's convenient, there's nothing fundamental that makes us different. What the Dominion did to Cardassia - humans did that to my homeworld. Maybe not so fast, but this place looks just how my planet did when the warring factions got through with it."

He nodded. "You do understand."

She met his eyes again. "You do have one thing we didn't. Cardassia is willing to unify and rebuild. You can chose to let this place fall apart completely, or you can use what you have to come back stronger. And if you're willing to commit to that, I will personally do everything in my power to make sure the Federation Council is behind you."

"Thank you, Commander." He paused. "Although I do have to correct you on one small matter."

"What's that?"

"If we'd been standing here a month ago, your fear of me would have been the least of our concerns."

Tasha burst out laughing despite herself, and Damar joined in.

**There will be follow-up to this, but I wanted to get this chapter posted. You've waited long enough. I do apologize for the wait, but I wasn't quite sure where I was going with this, and then I had**** The Move From Hell in mid-August and my vacation shortly thereafter to recover from said move and other stress this summer.**

**As for why Damar survives in this timeline and not the primary, my theory (because I really wanted the character to survive) is that some of the decisions he made in the way he fought were due to his guilt over killing Ziyal, which we learn was consuming him, and that he might have just a little more self-preservation in this one since she survived.**

**This chapter contains a number of references to the DS9 episode ****_What You Leave Behind_****, up to and including borrowed dialogue. I'm not a huge fan of DS9 Season Seven, so I'm going to let readers assume that Jadzia served basically the same function in that season as the Ezri Dax character did (minus the identity crisis, of course), rather than write it up. I wanted to change the way the war was won, but I couldn't find a way to justify that by Tasha's being alive. The reason she understands Tasha's reaction is that, if you remember, her last host was on Tasha's home planet and would see the similarities. The reference to Sisko taking a ship into battle with half the systems down is a reference to the episode _For the Uniform_.  
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**I would just like to say that with the addition of this chapter, _To The Journey_ now has more chapters than any other story on my page.  
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**Please Review.**


	42. Chapter Forty-Two: The Next Step

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty-Two: The Next Step  
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Tasha had been watching the moving crowds with dispassionate interest, but that all changed when she saw one particular figure in one of the beam-down parties. Skin pale beyond even that which could be caused by the sight of what was left of the city, hair immaculate as always. She didn't even bother to excuse herself from the conversation with Damar before she turned and ran towards him as fast as her legs could carry her. He saw her a few seconds later and ran as well, meeting her halfway.

She flew into his arms, his lips crashing down on hers in a kiss so forceful it almost hurt. He had lifted her clear off the ground, and they clung to each other and cried and kissed over and over. No one bothered them. Spontaneous displays of emotion were par for the course after a battle like that.

She realized suddenly that she was exhausted beyond all reason and slumped in Data's arms. He seemed to realize this and lifted her more completely into his arms. "Captain, with your permission, I need to take my wife back to the ship."

"Of course, Mr. Data." He reached out and gently touched the blonde woman's hair. "Natasha, that was some battle. Well done."

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Tasha felt like she'd barely fallen asleep before Data was waking her, telling her Admiral Ross wanted her present while he talked with the Cardassians. Twenty minutes later she was standing in the conference room on Deep Space Nine.

Damar nodded and smiled just a little when he saw her. She saw Ross, Sisko, Martok, Garak, and Kira sitting there, and a few more Admirals were on the viewscreen.

"The documents detailing the terms of surrender by the Dominion have been signed," Ross told the assembled crowd. "We are here now to discuss the situation on Cardassia."

"How bad is it?" a voice asked from the viewscreen, and Tasha felt a sudden jolt as she recognized Admiral Paris' voice. She hadn't even looked at the viewscreen long enough to notice him. There was just too much going on around her in that moment.

"It's bad," Ross said soberly. "Several cities completely leveled. Civilian casualty reports are close to three million and still being revised upward. It would have been even worse if Odo hadn't convinced the Dominion to stand down when he did." He glanced at Damar a little apologetically before he said the next part. "I think they intended to level the planet one city at a time."

Tasha flinched a little, but if anyone noticed they declined to comment. Paris spoke then, and there was a distance, almost a hostility, in his voice. "What are the Cardassians asking for?"

It didn't escape Tasha's notice that he had spoken as though Damar wasn't there to listen, and she suspected it hadn't slipped by the Cardassian leader either, but he showed no signs that he'd noticed it when he replied. "Whatever you can give us. We know, of course, that many of your own worlds have been devastated by this war, and we're not asking you to pull resources from Betazed or Earth or anywhere else. But millions of our citizens are dead, and many of our resources were taken by the Dominion while they controlled our world. I only want enough to take what is left and build a new Cardassia out of it."

But Paris wasn't satisfied. "We tried this before, didn't we? Seven years ago we tried this, and look where we are right now."

"With all due respect, Admiral," Damar replied without even raising his voice, "the situation just isn't the same, and not just because of what happened on Cardassia yesterday. Before that self-serving -" he seemed to be searching for a word he couldn't come up with, gave up, and started the sentence over. "Before Gul Dukat joined Cardassia with the Dominion, the military government had already been overthrown and the civilian government had taken power. The loss of the Obsidian Order changed the culture on Cardassia, and while I didn't realize it at the time, it was a change for the better. We could not return to where we were even if we wanted to, and I don't believe there are many on Cardassia after all that's happened that would want to. We have civilians we need to care for on our planet now, we're not going to be thinking about other worlds for a long while."

"But -"

"No," Tasha spoke up for the first time. "Listen to me, what Damar is asking, it's something we _have_ to give. A planet in the state Cardassia is in now is only going to fall apart further."

"Commander," Paris began.

"No," she said again. "_Listen to me_. I know you don't particularly like the Cardassians. Until today I would have said the same. But I don't care who they are or what they've done to our people, there are hundreds of thousands of civilian people on that planet who had nothing to do with anything some Cardassian soldiers might have done to any of us. I watched one society tear itself apart from the inside, and as long as I live, I will _never_ stand by and watch something like that happen again."

"Commander -" Ross began.

"No, she's right," Paris said suddenly. "I know a lot of us have stories from the Cardassian war that will haunt us the rest of our lives, myself included. But it's true that the civilians had little to do with anything that happened, and it's also true that a lot of us saw the results of something similar on one of our own worlds, even if it's something the Federation would rather not acknowledge ever happened." There was a definate undertone in that to suggest his displeasure with that situation. "If we let that happen when we have the power to stop it, we're no better than everything we condemn."

"All right," Ross said a little resignedly. "We'll give you the help you need."

xxxxxxxxx

"Commander."

Tasha should have known Ross wasn't going to let things slide as easily as he had acted like he would with everyone watching. "I did what I thought was right. I'd do it again."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"I was afraid you'd deny the Cardassians what they need. Like I said, I couldn't let that happen."

"And airing the Federation's own dirty laundry? In front of a Cardassian, no less? Did it never occur to you to use a little discretion?"

"It occurred to me that what the Cardassians are facing is similar to a critical moment on a Federation planet that went the wrong way. I wasn't telling Damar anything he didn't already know."

"He mentioned it to you?"

"No, I mentioned it to him when we spoke down on the planet."

"Which brings us back to my question, Commander. Why would you tell him about that?"

"Because this dirty laundry, as you call it, is my _past_. Why do you think I got so sick seeing what was left of the capitol city? I _lived _that 'dirty laundry'. I told him because I wanted him to know that one damn person in the entire Federation had some sense of what he was feeling, because I've had more than a few times in my life where I wasn't sure that was true. He's a _person_, and he's probably the only reason we came out of this without twice as many casualties as we had. All I did was talk to him like one."

He stared at her for a long moment; she had the sense he was sizing her up with his eyes. "You're a hell of a tactical officer, Commander, but you have a lot to learn about diplomacy."

"It worked, didn't it?" she countered.

"On him? Or me?"

She smiled ever so slightly. "As I said, it worked."

xxxxxxxxx

"It's going to be different on the station, that's for sure."

It was now a full two days after the final battle, and Kira Nerys was right about one thing. It was going to be a different station.

While most of the same personnel were on the station as had been there before the Dominion War started, the end of the war for most of them had been the end of their stay on the station. Worf had been asked by Martok, the new Klingon chancellor, to become his ambassador to the Federation, and it was a foregone conclusion that Jadzia would be going with him. This also meant that for the second time in five years, Tasha would be losing her second in command to the station, but she couldn't begrudge Jenna the chance to take a posting on the same station as her boyfriend, especially when that came with a promotion. Miles O'Brien was going back to Earth to teach at the Academy. That news had come as a shock, but then considering how much he'd had to be apart from his family during the war, it made sense that he'd want to go somewhere safe. He'd handed his position off to a young Ferengi, the nephew of the resident barkeeper who had decided to foreswear a life of profiteering to go to Starfleet Academy, the first of his species ever to do so. Odo had returned to his homeworld to heal the Founders of their illness, though Tasha hoped that Data, to whom the shapeshifter had taken, had managed to persuade him not to make that a permanent state of affairs. Garak had taken up permanent residence on Cardassia, and it was quite clear that Damar, the new leader of Cardassia, intended to make the man who had been with him through everything an important part of the ruling body.

Sisko - now, that was the real surprise. What exactly had happened no one seemed to know, only that he had suddenly run out of a victory celebration, taken a runabout to Bajor, and had yet to be seen again, except by his newly-pregnant wife Kassidy, who swore that he had appeared to her and promised to return "maybe in a year, maybe yesterday". Tasha knew Kassidy had always been skeptical of the powers of the wormhole aliens the Bajorans called Prophets, and so she believed that if Kassidy said something had happened, then something had happened. Not to mention their was no other explanation. Federation patrols had tracked Sisko as far as Bajor's sacred Fire Caves, where they had found the bodies of the Bajoran spiritual leader and - Tasha had almost wept in sheer relief when she had heard - Gul Dukat. They had said it was clear a third person had been involved in a fight with the two deceased, but they had found neither a body nor any sign that anyone had left the caves through any means they could identify.

The _Enterprise _would be returning to Earth for a few months, and the crew was being given leave, as were nearly all the survivors of the final battle. Deanna would be going straight to Betazed, now released from Dominion rule. Tasha thought that that first call from Betazed was probably the first time anyone had truly been grateful to hear from Mrs. Troi.

Tasha, meanwhile, had another idea. It was high time to finish a project that had been sidetracked by the war. And she had an idea of just how to do it, and who could do it with her.

She stepped up behind the tall young man staring out a Promenade window. He turned over to look at her and smiled a little. "Hey. Tasha, right?"

"Yes."

"Do me a favor and don't say you're sorry about my dad," he pleaded. "I believe he's coming back, and besides, if I have to listen to that again I think I'll scream."

She grinned. "Don't worry, Jake, I didn't intend to. Actually, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"What?"

"Your dad told me you were a writer, that you're interested in writing news articles."

"Yes."

"How'd you like to help me break a major story? Maybe one of the biggest stories of the decade?"

Now he smiled for real. "What do I have to do?"

**I am so sorry this took forever. Chapters like this are impossible to write because I never know what I want to do with them.**

**This chapter contains references to the DS9 episode **_**What You Leave Behind.**_

**No prizes for guessing what story she wants him to break!**

**Please review.**


	43. Chapter Forty-Three: A Special One

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty-Three: A Special One**_

Jake Sisko was a cornerstone of Tasha's plan, but she needed more than just him to make it work. It was for this reason that she approached a few members of her crew, a little hesitantly. Data wouldn't be able to help in this case, he was too recognizable, and the only other crewmember who she had confided in was on Betazed with her mother. Picard was out for the same reason as Data, which meant that Will and Geordi were the next steps. Unfortunately, that meant opening up about one of the few things she still had yet to tell most of the people around her.

She paced Will Riker's quarters for several minutes as he watched in concern before finally turning to him and blurting the whole thing out at once. Her control surprised even her; she didn't falter, didn't cry, just laid it all out there. He looked shocked, and she didn't blame him. If she hadn't known for herself that such a thing existed, she would have been shocked too. But he quickly hugged her, told her how sorry he was about what had happened, and then asked what he could do.

Geordi had been a slightly different story. Even though it had been well over a decade since they'd broken off their relationship, they couldn't forget that they had practically breathed in sync for several years, and the trust that had created between them wouldn't be broken by anything short of catastrophic change. It was easier to confide in him, harder to deal with his disappointment in the fact that she'd never told him, much as he'd tried to hide it. But he too had agreed eagerly to be in on the plan.

Tasha stared at the tall building that had once been called her home, that had truly been little more than a prison, feeling the irrational urge to run. Geordi seemed to notice and slipped his hand into hers. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I have to do this, Geordi. The fact that I'm unsettled just solidifies that for me."

He looked up at it, and then back at her. "If this was your first home on Earth, after where you came from, I'm surprised you didn't give up on humanity altogether. Couldn't have blamed you if you did."

She shrugged a little. "Guess I'm lucky in some ways. I remember enough from the years before Turkana imploded that I still remembered human kindness, not just the cruelty. Maybe that's why Ishara and I turned out so differently. Although there was a time I was convinced that Starfleet people were different than all other people. At least the professionals, anyway."

"Really?"

She shrugged. "I didn't have a whole lot of context. As far as I knew, this," she gestured to the building, "was how normal civilian humans were. Took me a while to realize that this was the aberration."

A woman stepped out onto the front steps, and Tasha was relieved that at least it wasn't anyone she knew. "I apologize for keeping you waiting."

"No, not at all," Will replied smoothly. "The work you're doing is so important and must be so time-consuming. I'm just glad you took the time out to meet with us."

_His poker experience serves him well_, Tasha thought, and the thought made her smile a little inside. He did most of the talking, playing the role of a curious reporter, with Geordi, as his assistant, chiming in just right from time to time. She knew she should keep her questions to a minimum lest she accidentally say something to reveal she knew more than they'd been told. Her moment was coming soon anyway.

Right on cue, Will's communicator beeped. He stepped aside to answer it, and returned grim-faced. "I'm afraid I'm needed back at the office. I'm sorry, I'd really like to stay -"

"Oh, you shouldn't have to go!" Tasha chimed in, just as they'd practiced. While Beverly hadn't come along on the mission, she'd been more than happy to direct a sort of real-life play. "I'll go, and you can finish your interview!"

Will's face creased in a deep frown. "Are you sure? You haven't been doing this that long, and this is a pretty big problem."

"Oh, come on," Geordi interjected. "How bad can it be? I'm sure she can handle whatever it is."

"Oh, yes, sir, I can!" Tasha insisted. "I'm sure I can."

He sighed loudly. "All right, I suppose you're probably ready to tackle something like this. But if you come across something you're not sure about, call me or ask someone in the office for help. Don't guess!"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," she said, pretending to sulk at the rebuke. "I'll show myself out. I suppose even you will admit that I can do _that_ on my own without screwing it up?"

She walked off the way they'd come, still pretending a mixture of excitement and frustration. Once she had turned a few corners, she subtly glanced behind her to make sure she hadn't been followed and that no one happened to be there to observe, and then turned off the path they had walked for where she knew a back flight of stairs existed. The back door was difficult to locate from the outside unless one knew where it was, but Tasha had found it from the inside within her first week. She had used it to sneak out to make her last-ditch effort to find a way to get into Starfleet Academy, and now she would use it to defy them even more than she had that time. And this time, they couldn't touch her for it.

The door was as she remembered it; only locked from the outside. One press of a button, and it opened to reveal Jake Sisko hunkered down outside. He looked up to make sure it was her and then quickly slid inside. "Don't worry, I had a cover ready if anyone else had opened that."

"I wasn't worried. Come on, let's go. Stick with me. And remember, no matter what we see, this is not the time to intervene. We have to take the whole organization down at once, and that won't happen if we try to bring down one or two of them. The organization will sacrifice them on the altar of their greater good and then they'll keep on going like they have been."

"I remember. I did hear you the first five times."

She let out a slow breath. "I know. I just don't think you have any concept of what you're about to see."

"If you say so. How do you know about this place, anyway?"

"I'll tell you later," she replied shortly. "Come on."

xxxxxxxxx

Two hours later, the pair exited and beamed back to the ship, Tasha with her hand on Jake's arm to stop him from falling over. "My God," he whispered. "You were right when you said I had no idea. How did you - did you _live _here?"

Tasha nodded slowly. "For a little more than two years. I'll write some stuff up for you about it to include in your article. And I put Data to work searching for other complaints. I'm hoping we can get a few interviews."

"Quite possibly."

Tasha jumped a foot in the air as she turned. "Damn it, Data! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry."

"It's okay." She placed a light kiss on his lips. "I forgive you. What do you have?"

"Several promising complaints, however, one in particular caught my attention."

"Who and what?" Jake pressed, pulling his PADD out of his pocket and starting a new file.

"A Ms. Elizabeth Marinette. She adopted a child from the center two months ago. She filed a detailed complaint."

"Can you summarize it?" Jake asked eagerly.

"She adopted seven-year-old Robert Becker - now legally Robert Marinette. He had been classified as special needs due to extensive emotional trauma - both of his parents died in the Breen attack on Earth. He was a witness."

Jake flinched a little. "Poor kid. So what happened?"

"Ms. Marinette is a trained child psychologist. She convinced the case workers that she could provide the care Robert needed, and so the adoption was filed. She suspected child abuse immediately, despite the fact that there was no notation in the file. She believed he might have been too traumatized to speak of it. The complaint says that she and her oldest daughter were able to convince him to speak, and he told them that the abusive party had been the center, not his biological parents. She promptly filed a complaint; it is under investigation."

Jake was typing at warp speed. "Any chance of an interview?"

"I already contacted her. She was more than willing. She said she 'wants the world to know what they do to innocent children in that awful place.' I told her you could see her tomorrow afternoon."

Jake finally stopped typing and looked up with a smile on his face. "If you ever get tired of working for Starfleet, I could more than use you on an investigative reporting team. Confirm that appointment. I'll be there."

xxxxxxxxx

The Marinette home in Oregon was large but not particularly distinctive on the street. Tasha and Data hung back a bit, letting Jake take the lead. He rang the bell and waited.

A blonde woman apparently in her mid-twenties answered, and Tasha realized with a start that she recognized her. "Of course," she mumbled to no one in particular. "I thought the name sounded familiar."

Jake, meanwhile, was kind of staring at her. "Y-you're Elizabeth Marinette?" he asked in disbelief. "Forgive me, I was expecting someone a little, you know, older."

She laughed. "You still are. Elizabeth's my mother; I'm Jess. You must be the reporter she told me about. Come in, she's just sorting out a squabble between my sisters."

"How many of you are there?" Jake asked as she opened the door all the way.

"Four altogether. Me, Danni, Chloe, and Bobby."

"Three against one," Jake commented.

She shrugged, but her face was serious when she responded. "We don't consider ourselves 'against' anybody. Especially not Bobby, enough things in his life have been against him. It's mostly Danni and Chloe who fight each other, and it's never that serious even then."

"This must be all of you," Data commented, picking up a photo on a shelf. It depicted the woman before them with a tall, dark-haired woman, two girls with reddish-brown hair who looked a lot alike, and a little boy with light brown curls.

Jess nodded. "We had that taken just after Bobby was adopted. We wanted to show him he was part of this family."

"You're all adopted?" Jake asked, then blushed. "I didn't mean... I just meant, only your sisters look like each other."

"Yes, we're all adopted," Jess replied matter-of-factly. Clearly, the question didn't bother her. "Danni and Chloe are biological sisters; they were adopted together."

"So, you helped your mom figure out what happened to your brother?" Jake asked, falling into reporter mode.

"Yes, that's right. Please, sit. Mom and I knew something was off right away, and it wasn't just the trauma of what he saw."

"How did you know?"

"The sort of trauma that comes from witnessing a frightening or disturbing event leaves different traces than the sort of trauma that comes from being an abuse victim," said a voice, and they all turned to see the woman from the photograph. "Elizabeth Marinette," she said as she shook Jake's hand.

"Jake Sisko," he replied. "This is part of my investigative team. Tasha Yar, and Data."

She shook both of their hands as well before taking a seat. "I've heard of you," she said to Data. "You're a fascinating case study."

"Of what?" he asked interestedly.

"In my field, mostly the development of emotions and reactions as they relate to experiences lived. Most children develop those sorts of things before they're old enough to really relate them to experiences, but you -"

Jake cleared his throat. "Uh, as fascinating as this is..."

"Right. Sorry." She laughed a little but it was tempered. "You're here about Bobby."

Jake nodded. "You mentioned the traces left by abuse. You mean scars?"

"Not physical scars, at least not necessarily. He was afraid to be touched, terrified at the thought that he might do something wrong. None of that can be explained by what he witnessed; in most victims, but especially children, specific symptoms are linked to specific events. His parents' death would have no connection with misbehavior or getting someone angry at him in his mind; I checked the incident report of his parents' death to be sure. For weeks, he wouldn't tell us anything. We finally convinced him we wanted to help him..."

xxxxxxxxx

An hour later, Jake had enough material for three stories, and he stood. "Thank you for your time," he said softly.

"You're welcome," Elizabeth replied. "Thank you for doing this."

As they finished up, Jess pulled Data aside; Tasha followed almost out of habit. "Listen, I was wondering if you'd be able to do a favor for me."

"What would you like me to do?"

"I'm trying to find a Starfleet officer. You'd have access to the entire database and be able to work through it better than I can do with a computer."

Data smiled, and Tasha knew why. She had just, however unintentionally, differentiated him from a computer.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"That's just the thing - I don't know."

Data raised an eyebrow. "This is a specific person?"

"Yes. I just don't know his full name. It's been a long time, and I only heard his full name once."

"What information can you give me?"

"I called him Johnny," she said softly. "But his real name wasn't John; it was something else, something longer. He was on Earth, in San Francisco in 2361. I think - I think he was a Captain. I _know_ he was Starfleet."

"Anything else?"

Jess shook her head, but Tasha's gaze was fixated on her eyes. The woman had looked familiar months ago in Starfleet Medical, and Tasha had had an odd sense that that familiarity centered around her deep, soulful blue-green eyes. And now it all clicked into place.

"You are aware," Data was saying, "that many Starfleet officers were killed at Wolf 359 and in the Dominion War, both of which took place after the date you specified."

"I know. But I _need_ to know. This person was special to me. If he's alive, I want to see him again, and if he is dead - at least I'll know for sure."

"Do you have a computer console here?" Tasha asked her.

She seemed surprised but replied. "Of course. It's over here."

Tasha quickly pressed a few buttons, calling up a familiar personnel file. "Come here." She pointed to the picture on the screen. "Take a look at this."

Jess did, and her eyes went wide. "My God, that's him! How - how did you know?"

"He's looking for you too. He told me he tried to get into the sealed files, but whoever sealed them knew more about computers than he did. He misses you."

"You know him?" she asked excitedly. "I mean, on a personal level?"

Data leaned over to see what she had pulled up. "Captain Picard?" he asked in surprise, and Jess reeled back a step.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "I - I had no idea - my Johnny is _Captain Picard_? I'd never seen a photo, just read his name in half a dozen books and countless news articles." She turned to Tasha. "And you know him too. You serve under him?"

"That's right."

She swallowed. "When will you see him next?"

"Probably today or tomorrow. We're still staying aboard our ship for the time being."

"When you see him, can you tell him - tell him Jessie wants to see him again?"

"I can do better than that. What are you doing for the rest of the day?"

"I don't have anything planned."

"Then why don't you come back to our ship with us? Pay a certain Captain a little surprise visit."

She hesitated. "I'm sure the Captain has better things to do than meet with someone he hasn't seen in over a decade."

"Are you kidding? We're dry-docked. No one's doing anything. Why do you think we have the time to do this investigation?"

xxxxxxxxx

As soon as they'd beamed back to the ship, Jake bolted for his guest quarters to write up his story, and Tasha guided the younger girl to the Enterprise's bridge. Her eyes were wide as she took in the Federation flagship.

"Thinking you want to serve on this ship someday?" Tasha asked.

"Or something like it," she replied. "I am Starfleet Med, after all, and I never wanted to serve planetside. Guess I picked that up from him. He was always talking about space; careful not to scare the six-year-old, of course, but he had me dreaming of strange archeological finds and seeing famous constellations up close."

"What about med school?"

"Some of it's just what I'm good at. I'm much better at the things it takes to make a good doctor than at the kinds of knowledge I'd need for command or operations or security. And there's always been something - doctors are the people that other people put their faith in when they're having the worst days of their lives and the ones who get to be there to give the good news too. Other people _can_ be, like he was for me, but doctors are in the spot to be that every day."

The door opened to the bridge, and Jess sucked in a breath. "Wow."

"Yeah, that was my first reaction too." Tasha walked the momentarily stunned speechless girl out of the lift. "Come on."

She walked to the Captain's ready room and rang the bell. His voice rang out. "Come in!"

Tasha definitely heard the younger woman draw in another sharp breath as the door opened. "Captain."

"How did it go?"

"Fine. I think we've got some good stuff. Captain, there's someone here who'd like to see you."

He looked up. "I don't see anyone."

Tasha turned to Jess, who was standing, frozen, just out of his range of sight. "Come on," she urged again, taking the young woman by the shoulders and bringing her in just through the doorway. Then she turned without a word and left, letting the doors hiss closed.

Jess stared at him for the longest time, not saying a word. She finally forced one out, a solitary word through vocal cords that felt suddenly paralyzed. "Captain."

"Well, don't just -" he began, but as he spoke, he looked up again, and as soon as his eyes met hers, the sentence died away. "My God," he whispered. "It can't be."

"It's me," she whispered back. "It's Jessie."

He just stared, and for a moment she wasn't sure what to make of it. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," she said softly, choking back her tears. "I'll leave."

"No," he replied, and even at a whisper the intensity of his voice froze her in her tracks. "Please don't."

He was standing now, and he approached her slowly, reaching one hand out to touch her face. "My little girl. My Jessie. I've missed you so much."

And then she wasn't looking at Starfleet's top Captain anymore. She was looking at Johnny.

She closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, noticing with a little surprise that he wasn't much taller than her, even short as she was. When she'd been a little girl, he'd seemed huge to her, a larger-than-life protector from the pain of her life to that point.

"I missed you," she whispered. "I tried to find you, but without even a real first name -"

"I tried to find you too," he replied, holding her tightly in his arms. "But they were a few steps ahead of me. I couldn't find a single record of a Rachel Jessica."

She smiled. "There's a reason for that. That's not my name anymore. When I was adopted, they changed my legal first name to Jessica. I was used to being called Jessie anyway, and it made me harder to find, as you learned by experience. Although I wouldn't have minded if _you_ found me."

"How have you been?" He pulled back a little to really take in the sight of her. "You look wonderful."

"I've been all right. It hasn't been bad, except for missing you. I have a family, and I'm happy with them. I only wish you could have been a part of it too."

"So do I, _ma cherie. _So do I."

Tears filled her eyes. She'd remembered that little French expression that he'd told her meant "my darling", the one he'd used so often in the few months she'd known him.

"I half-expected you to still be a little girl," he said, with a hint of a laugh in his voice. "But you've grown up. You're what, twenty now? Are you in college?"

She half-laughed as well. "I'm Starfleet pre-med." Then she really laughed at the look on his face. "What? You told me constantly about space travel. Did you really think I wouldn't want to fly among the stars for myself?"

"I was just telling stories to make you smile and help you fall asleep," he replied. "I didn't expect you to take them as career advice."

She reluctantly broke the embrace and then walked to the window in the ready room, fully aware of him as he stepped up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, as if afraid to lose contact with her for too long. "You love this, don't you?"

"Yes, I do." He regarded the same stars she was staring at. "But even more, I love to stand at this same window and see systems I've never seen before - systems no one's ever seen before. I've missed that, with the war."

She covered his hand with hers. "That love is what you gave me. You passed it to me in every single story." She turned and embraced him again. "Thank you. For everything."

**The article will be in the next chapter, otherwise this one would go on forever and it would take that much longer to get it out to you!**

**Jessie does still have a role to play in the story, but not for awhile yet.**

**Please review.**


	44. Chapter Forty-Four: Finally In The Open

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty-Four: Finally In The Open**_

_It is a sad fact that, even with all of our advanced technology, things can still happen to alter the course of a child's life in a terrible way. These children are among the most vulnerable among us, and doubly so when they have no one to care for them. But instead of helping them, one organization takes advantage of these children._

_This reporter was given a rare chance to look inside the Nebraska Center For Special-Needs Orphaned Youth (NCFS-NOY), to see the truth behind the rose-tinted picture the center paints for the public, and what exists there was horrifying. This reporter saw children being beaten with leather belts for infractions as small as speaking out of turn or for crying. "Counseling" sessions seemed to consist mostly of degradation, telling the charges that the bad things in their lives were their fault and deriding them for their emotions. The things that were said were unspeakable._

_This reporter also got the chance to interview several former residents, and their testimonies confirmed that what was witnessed was not an exception to the rule._

_"They treated me like a criminal," Lieutenant Commander Tasha Yar, Chief of Security and fourth in command of the USS _Enterprise_, explained._

Tasha looked over at Jake. "Nice touch throwing in my rank and position."

He grinned. "One of the first things I learned in my correspondence courses. If you have a source with good credentials, pump them up as much as you can." He gestured for her to keep reading.

_"They treated me like a criminal," Lieutenant Commander Tasha Yar, Chief of Security and fourth in command of the USS _Enterprise_, explained. "I was expected to transition overnight from a life of constant peril to a life of complete submission to authority, and was punished for not being able to do so. I was subjected to disciplinary actions that, if taken by a private citizen against their child, would be considered abuse and most likely be grounds for removing the child from the home. We were starved and beaten for minor offenses such as speaking out of turn._

_"They said they wanted to help me, but their actions only served to hurt me, and not just physically. Counseling took the form of victim-blaming that only served to increase the trauma I had already suffered. My own perspective on my experiences was made secondary to the counselors' often incorrect interpretation of events; they nearly made me believe that they knew more about what I had endured than I did. I was cut off from the few friends I had had without even being told as much; I believed I had been abandoned by those people who cared most for me. My record was marred by unsubstantiated accusations presented as fact, which nearly kept me from even being admitted to the service that I am now proudly a part of. They told me I'd never amount to anything."_

_Lieutenant Commander Yar's service record resoundingly disproves these predictions, and there are more than a few Starfleet officers who have reasons to be glad that Starfleet admitted her in spite of a dishonestly harsh record._

_Accredited child psychologist Elizabeth Marinette also agreed to be quoted in this article regarding her son, Robert, whom she adopted from NCFS-NOY. "He was more traumatized when he came to me than the records said he was when he went into that place, and when that report was written just days after he witnessed the brutal murder of both of his parents. He was terrified of doing anything to upset me, even the minor misbehaviors typical of children his age. His back was cut up from being beaten with a belt. When I demanded answers from the center, they said the kids had gotten into a fight, and one of them had attacked him - what frightens me is how easy it would be for someone without a degree to believe all that. How many other kids like him are out there whose parents tried to fight for them but weren't armed with the information I had. When I finally convinced him to talk, he confirmed everything I suspected and some things I didn't. That place needs to close down."_

_Why such a place exists in the 24th Century is a question everyone should be asking themselves. Surely there are better solutions for the children currently housed - one might even say _incarcerated -_ there. Perhaps it is because the rose-colored portrait has fooled any inspector. One would _hope_ that it is only oversight_.

Tasha placed the tablet on the table. "Anyone contacted you yet?"

"A half-dozen other survivors - I'm thinking I may have to do a follow-up just to showcase the additional survivor stories. One message from someone in Child Welfare, says that region falls under his jurisdiction and is wondering why he's never heard of it before - he's going to do a surprise inspection and bounce this up to his superiors. Of course, it won't be as much of a surprise as we'd like, seeing as I'm sure they've read the article too, but I doubt they can erase all traces of years of abuse in a matter of days."

"I doubt they'll try," Tasha said, causing both Jake and Data to look at her in confusion. "I mean, some of it, sure," she elaborated. "The beatings, yes, they'll stall for as much time as they can to try and get rid of all the marks on the kids. But the rigid rules and discipline - it sounds crazy, but I got the sense that at least some of those people actually thought that was the way to go, that the children they were dealing with wouldn't respond to anything else. They haven't just deluded the _kids_ into believing that their treatment is the only way to go, they've deluded _themselves_."

"Why couldn't you have said that _before_ I published the article?" Jake grumbled.

"It would have changed your reporting of the story?" Data asked in puzzlement.

"No," Jake replied, raising an eyebrow. "It's just a hell of a quote. I could've found a way to put it in."

"What, you didn't quote me enough?" she teased, smiling. As if on cue, her comm station beeped.

"I should have figured they'd want to talk to me too," she said wryly.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha hesitantly stepped into the office of the man who had captained the _Enterprise_ for several weeks. She hadn't been on board for most of that time, and they'd barely been in the same room. But he'd asked to meet with her, and she suspected she knew why. "Captain?"

"Commander." He half-smiled at her. "Please come in."

She stepped in and the door shut behind her. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I presume you've read this?" He held up a PADD; the headline from Jake's story was visible to her even at that distance. Your quote was - poignant, to say the least."

"I wasn't trying to draw attention to myself," she countered. "I just want people to know the truth. I want someone to _do_ something."

"Understandable." He set it down. "As it happens, I do recall your file crossing my desk back when I was doing admissions. I didn't put the pieces together to figure out it was _you_ until I read the article, but I remember the file."

"I remember you," she replied quietly. "I always assumed you didn't remember me - that I was just one more rejection to you. You must have handed out hundreds of them." She half-smiled. "I'm almost afraid to ask what made me memorable."

"The file," he admitted. "It surprised me that the person in that file would think they had even a chance of consideration for admission. Of course, now I realize that person likely never existed. Certainly never applied to Starfleet."

"At the time, I thought it was unfair of you not to listen to my side." A half-smile appeared on her face. "Now, of course, I realize what it must have seemed like from your end. How many people had tried the 'my file is lying' trick?"

He smiled. "Enough to make me skeptical, that's for sure. But I am sorry for not looking more closely."

"You gave me the suggestion that got me into Starfleet in the end," she countered. "That's got to count for something."

"You got a sponsor."

She nodded. "Maybe it worked out for the best the way things happened. My sponsor was a good person, and he treated me like a member of his family. And his daughter - for the longest time, I convinced myself that it was just her father's influence that led her into Starfleet, but she has told me, repeatedly, that I was part of it too. And she was the one who stopped the Breen from blowing up Engineering Corps."

He smiled a little. "I won't take any credit for _that_, Commander. Most people would have just given up. I expected you to. At the most, I expected you to try and find a sponsor, only to find that no one was willing and then resign yourself to the idea that it wouldn't happen."

"You didn't know me."

"I can see that. You don't seem the type to take no for an answer. Clearly, someone recognized that as a positive."

Tasha couldn't help laughing a little. "He said that it wouldn't make sense for me to be so persistent unless I was serious, and that Starfleet needed officers who were so committed to the service."

Jellico smiled too. "Well, hindsight is always perfect, but I think a lot of people would agree it's a good thing he did."

**I'm sorry about the time delay here, but I really can't write fiction in the style of non-fiction. One reviewer offered to take the blame for distracting me, but I think I'll save that for another time!**

**Please review.**


	45. Chapter FortyFive:The Path Less Traveled

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty-Five: The Path Less Traveled**_

Asil was positive she'd picked up on something none of the others in the briefing had. Yes, the officer who'd spoken out of turn was proverbially falling all over himself (and what a strange expression. How could one fall over oneself?) but contained within his stammering monologue was something that actually made sense. She suspected also that his idea might have been taken more seriously had he not made a comment that suggested Admiral Paris might forget his son's plight (another illogical human behavior, this tendency to be offended by words that were clearly not meant offensively). No, she was not likely to forget that this project dealt with well over one hundred people stranded in the Delta Quadrant, but the officer had not meant the reference as an insult, so why should she be offended?

_Lieutenant Barclay_. She remembered Tasha mentioning him once - a brilliant engineer, she'd said, but has trouble communicating, doesn't always work well with others. Asil had seen evidence of all three in just those few moments. But at the same time, Barclay's outburst reminded her of her own work on the _Sovereign_-class ships' power systems, how her commanding officer had been quick to dismiss her solution as a possibility, how that solution had turned out to be the correct one. His plan was not as well-formed as hers had been, but a plan had to evolve through the partially-formed stages before it could be complete.

Asil wasn't personally assigned to the Pathfinder project, though she had been involved in designing the communications array that was a central point of the plan. She knew, of course, that she could have used both her status as the family of a _Voyager_ crewmember and her position within Engineering Corps to get herself assigned, but she didn't believe in using her professional discretion that way, and she certainly didn't believe in using a personal connection that had nothing to do with her professional capabilities to do so. In any case, Captain Scott, unlike her previous commanding officer, was fully aware of her abilities and assigned her tasks accordingly, and it would not be right to abandon or pass off one of the projects currently under her supervision simply because she had a personal connection to Pathfinder.

In any case, that would not keep her from looking over Barclay's plan. She had access to most of the computer files in Engineering Corps, and as for the rest - she would hardly be a competent engineer if she could not find a way to access a few encrypted files.

xxxxxxxxx

"Did you come up here just for a visit, or was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

Tasha was one of the few humans Asil knew who was inclined to say what she was thinking straight out. It was always somewhat refreshing after spending so much time with humans who so frequently hinted at the truth rather than say it outright. Asil might have chosen to leave the Vulcan homeworld to live in the place that was the origin of humanity, but that did not mean that there were not times where she lamented the human tendency to make a simple interaction complicated for no readily apparent reason.

"Reginald Barclay," she said simply. "He was your colleague aboard the _Enterprise_."

"Yeah, I remember. What about him?"

"He is working on a project of some interest to me. He has an idea that may or may not be of value."

"You couldn't determine the value just from looking at the idea?" This was half a tease and half genuine surprise. Asil was usually able to figure out the merit of a plan after looking at it for five minutes, if that.

"The idea is not in the computers. He made a verbal presentation -"

"Oh. Say no more." Tasha laughed a little, remembering more than a few verbal presentations from Barclay. "What do you need from me?"

"You have experience working with him. Are his ideas frequently sound?"

"I'm no engineer, but as an observer, I'd have to say yes. He sees patterns and connections that other people miss; it's led him to solutions and answers that no one else was anywhere near. He has a hard time being taken seriously because he doesn't do inter-personal interaction very well, and when he's called out, he freezes up and has even more trouble from that point on. Does that help?"

"Yes. I believe it does."

"One more thing you should know. When he gets an idea in his head, it's hard to get it out. You can talk all you want, he won't be deterred."

xxxxxxxxx

"Excuse me, Commander?"

The man who'd been leading the previous morning's briefing stopped and turned to her. "Is there something I can help you with, Lieutenant?"

"I need to speak with Lieutenant Barclay. Is he available?"

"I'm afraid not, Lieutenant, and he won't be for some time. Lieutenant Barclay has been temporarily relieved of duty. Is there something I can help you with?"

"No, thank you, Commander."

xxxxxxxxx

"Are ye turning in soon?"

Asil looked up from her console briefly to reply to her commanding officer's query. "Not imminently. I wish to finish these calculations before I depart for the evening. As a Vulcan, I could if necessary function for several more days at least before my lack of sleep would even become cause for concern, but in this case I do not foresee that being necessary."

He grinned. "I was just asking, no need for you to justify yourself. Have a good night, Lieutenant."

"And the same to you, Captain."

Asil turned back to her calculations, but she had only been working for a few minutes when her console beeped. She turned and saw that the computer had located the files she had set it to continuously scan for. It appeared someone had finally loaded Barclay's plan into a computer that was connected to the database. It wasn't encrypted beyond the normal Engineering Corps security codes she used on a daily basis.

If she was to be honest, she had stayed late primarily to wait for this file. The calculations could have waited until the next day, but they gave her a reason to remain at her station to wait for information on a proposal that, if she had understood correctly, was more time-sensitive. Not that Captain Scott was likely to object, but she would prefer not to involve him in an operation that was not strictly within their purview.

The information as it was laid out in written form was much clearer and more coherent than Barclay's stammered (and repeatedly interrupted) attempt at a verbal explanation. And the more she read, the more it became clear that her initial perception had been correct. Barclay's plan made sense.

_He won't be deterred_. Tasha had been referring to a debate, but Asil doubted that that personality trait was limited to one area. This plan was, as she had believed she understood, time-sensitive. Which meant that, relieved of duty or not, he would likely be in the lab as soon as it was empty. And she needed to be there too.

She'd managed to learn, too, what he'd done to get himself relieved in the first place. It _was_ concerning, and something even she wanted to talk to him about, but it wasn't likely to impair his work for the moment.

xxxxxxxxx

"Security will become aware shortly if you attempt that."

Barclay started and dropped the tool he'd clearly been about to use to tamper with the lab security system. "I - Lieutenant - I was just - I left something here, that is to say -"

Asil saved him any further stammering by calmly reaching past him and entering her own code into the manual keypad. The door slid open.

She stepped through and then turned to Barclay. "Lieutenant? Is something the matter?"

"N-n-no," he stammered out. "I just -"

"That is for the best," she interrupted quickly. "While I could likely put your plan into effect without your assistance, it would be beneficial to have it regardless."

"My - my plan?"

"To contact _Voyager_ through the MIDAS array." Asil was already unlocking the relevant systems. "Do you intend to assist, or will I be required to complete this task on my own?"

He all but sprinted to the nearest console. "How did you know about my plan?"

"You mentioned it at the briefing. Computer, interface with the MIDAS array."

"It didn't seem like anyone was listening."

"I was paying attention. Activate the control matrix," she added to the computer. "Your presentation was less than entirely clear, however the theory appeared sound enough for further examination. I am curious: you did not mention in the briefing that you intended to create a microscopic singularity. In fact, I believed that you were specifically referring to a much larger anomaly. Was that omitted from your verbal report, or did you modify the plan in the time since the briefing?"

"I modified it," Barclay replied. "After the briefing, I started working again and - and one of the most obvious problems was that I wasn't sure the array could produce enough gravimetric energy to create a standard wormhole. But if all we're trying to do is communicate, do we really need a standard-size wormhole, or could we compress the data stream to fit through this microscopic version? Computer, scan the area surrounding the array for a class B itinerant pulsar."

"_A pulsar has been detected at co-ordinates two two seven by four one mark six_," the computer informed them.

"Good, good!" he replied excitedly. "Direct a sixty terawatt tachyon beam toward the pulsar."

"_Tachyon beam initiated._"

"I believe I can modify the plan further, if you are willing," Asil interrupted Barclay's dialogue with the computer.

"Of course. Computer, how long until levels are sufficient to produce a gravimetric surge of five million teradynes?"

"_Approximately seventeen minutes._"

"What are you thinking?" he asked her.

"Are you familiar with the research of Doctor Lenara Kahn of the Trill Science Ministry regarding the creation of stable artificial wormholes?" Asil never took her eyes or hands off the console even as she spoke.

"Yes, I am. But I thought that experiment failed."

"It did," Asil replied matter-of-factly. "However, if we apply those principles to your idea, we may be able to stabilize this micro-wormhole, if not indefinitely then at least for a finite amount of time, to prolong our contact with _Voyager_. Pay attention to your console," she admonished in the same matter-of-fact tone. "If we err in the timing of this, we will have to start over."

"Right. Sorry. Will your modifications be ready to go by the time we open the wormhole?"

"First, we need to determine where the wormhole must be directed. I cannot stabilize the wormhole if we will have to redirect it to locate the correct coordinates. Once we have established the correct trajectory, I can implement the modifications to stabilize."

"Are you sure it'll work?"

"No, I am not. But none of my calculations suggest that the modifications will cause any damage to the MIDAS array or cause the wormhole to collapse sooner than it would otherwise."

"So you're saying that the worst-case scenario is that we end up where we would have been if we didn't even try your plan. That's ... that's brilliant."

Asil only nodded at the praise. "There is an advantage to working with other individuals as opposed to holograms."

Barclay's face colored. "You...know about that?"

"Yes. Tell me, when you discussed the plan with the holographic recreation of the _Voyager_ crew, did any of them provide suggestions, or did they merely allow you a venue to speak aloud your own thoughts until you could determine a solution?"

"The - the second one. What's your point?"

"Holograms are only a compilation and extrapolation of the computer data that is input into them. Unlike individuals with their own minds, holograms cannot innovate beyond the parameters of data that is already in the computers. Your idea to change the parameters of this project from required placing a completely new lens upon the project, not only extrapolating but creating a completely new idea. A hologram is unable to do that."

"But I've read the report from when _Voyager_'s doctor made contact with Starfleet. According to that -"

"That is a different situation," Asil replied. "For one thing, the Doctor's program is far more complex and sophisticated than the programs that control the characters on the holodeck, including an adaptive algorithm specifically designed for innovative thinking, in order to allow him to explore alternative medical treatments when the conventional options have been exhausted. For another, the Doctor has been running almost continuously for nearly six years - four at the time he made contact with Starfleet - long enough for a hologram, especially one as sophisticated as the Doctor, to develop sentience. One cannot say the same for a holodeck program."

"So you're saying I should ditch the holodeck program."

"What you do on your recreational time is not my concern. However, I would suggest that seeking input from your colleagues might be more beneficial to your work efforts than consulting holographic characters. Colleagues might also be useful if the event arises again that you have to convince a senior officer of the merits of a proposal."

"I know, I know. But it's not - it's not that simple. There's so much that goes into interactions between humans, and I'm always half a step behind. You're lucky. Vulcans just say what they mean. There's no subtext, no hidden set of rules everyone's supposed to know instinctively. It must be so simple."

"Vulcan interaction contains an element of complexity that is not always readily apparent. In any case, I have not lived on Vulcan for any length of time since I was a very young child. I have had to learn the rules of human interaction, just as you have. Some of it is easier, as I am not entirely expected to understand the intricacies of humanity, but some of it is simply learning to be part of a culture even if I do not fully understand it."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Easy? No. But it is possible. You do not feel that you are a part of human culture. Accept that, or you will always be pursuing a goal that is just out of reach. You must have training in interacting with cultures other than your own."

"I took the required courses at the Academy like everyone else."

"Exactly so. Make use of your training. Study humanity as you would any culture with which you were not familiar."

"That's - that's brilliant." He looked like he was about to say more, but before he could, Asil's console beeped urgently.

"Tachyon levels are sufficient to create the required gravimetric surge - there."

"Computer," Barclay asked excitedly, "is there a micro-wormhole present at co-ordinates three four three by two seven?"

"_Scanning. Affirmative._"

"Adjust the phase alignment to direct the wormhole's trajectory to Delta quadrant, grid nine, Sector 41751," Asil instructed.

"_Trajectory established._"

"Open Starfleet Emergency Channel and transmit toward the singularity."

"_Channel open._"

Barclay looked at Asil, waiting for her next move, but she only nodded to him. He didn't reply.

"Computer, pause recording." She turned to Barclay. "This plan was your idea, and you are the senior officer present. Protocol dictates you record the message."

"Are - are you sure?"

"I am certain. Computer, resume recording."

Barclay took a deep, uneasy breath and began recording. "Starfleet Command to USS Voyager. Come in, Voyager. Voyager, do you hear me? This is Lieutenant Reginald Barclay. Please respond. End recording."

A few seconds of silence passed between Barclay and Asil. He broke it first. "If they haven't replied by now, I don't think they're going to."

"Agreed. Computer, redirect the wormhole's trajectory to Delta quadrant, grid 11, sector 64238 and retransmit the message."

"_Trajectory established. Transmitting._"

Again, the two engineers waited in silence for a reply, but none was forthcoming.

"Well," Barclay said nervously, "third time's the charm, right?"

"A curious turn of phrase, as the third time is no more likely in general to produce a more favorable result than any other attempt. However, in this case, since there were three alternatives and two of them have proven incorrect, logic dictates that the third is likely to be correct."

"Right. Computer, redirect the wormhole's trajectory to Delta quadrant, grid ten, sector 3658, and retransmit the message."

But almost before he could finish the sentence, the lab doors hissed open and five people walked through. Asil recognized two of them immediately: Commander Harkins and Admiral Paris. One of the others was an engineer she had seen around, although she had never learned his name. The remaining two, she surmised, were the Admiral's aides. And it was clear that none of them had expected to find the lab occupied, to say nothing of seeing Barclay there.

"Lieutenant," Harkins began sternly. "You were relieved of duty. How did you even get into the lab without setting off the security system?"

"Excuse me, Commander," Asil spoke up. "Lieutenant Barclay did not tamper with the security system in any way. I accessed the lab, which I am permitted to do as a member of Starfleet Engineering Corps."

Paris and Harkins both turned to look at her. The Commander spoke first. "That may be the case, but I distinctly remember telling you just yesterday that Lieutenant Barclay had been relieved of duty."

"I required his assistance."

"Look, Pete." This time it was Barclay interrupting. "I was already on - on the premises when Lieutenant Asil got here. She didn't ask me to come - I think she meant to try my plan without my help. She just took advantage of my already being here."

"All right, both of you, enough trying to keep each other out of trouble," Paris snapped, though there was a tone in his voice that suggested a hint of amusement and maybe even respect for their mutual loyalty. "We'll deal with this later. As it happens, Commander Harkins and I were on our way down here to give Mr. Barclay's plan a try. How much did you two manage to implement before we showed up?"

"We - we transmitted the message to all three sets of coordinates," Barclay stammered out. "It should have worked. I don't understand why it didn't."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Paris said softly.

"So am I, sir," Barclay replied. "I appreciate your confidence in me, and Lieutenant Asil's, but I don't deserve it."

"Lieutenant Barclay is correct," Asil put in. "There is no readily apparent explanation for why this did not work as it was meant to. I do not believe he is to blame for -"

At that point, the comm system crackled to life. At first it just sounded like static, but almost immediately, everyone in the room heard what was unmistakably a voice, albeit a distorted one. "_Starfleet Command, come in._"

Asil checked her instruments, but the readings only confirmed what she already knew. The signal was coming from the coordinates of the wormhole. Aware that everyone was watching her, she nodded. It was the only confirmation they needed.

Commander Harkins hurried for the nearest console. "Reg, give me a hand clearing up the signal. Lieutenant -"

"I am attempting to increase stability to the wormhole in order to prolong this contact," she said briskly, turning back to her calculations as Barclay and Harkins worked to filter the transmission to eliminate some of the distortion.

The voice came through again. "_This is Captain Kathryn Janeway. Do you read me?_"

"I think she's talking to you," Harkins said, his voice soft with amazement that this had actually worked.

Barclay drew a deep breath, his nervousness almost palpable. Then he spoke. "Captain?"

xxxxxxxxx

"_Captain? This is Lieutenant Reginald Barclay at Starfleet Command._"

The crew seemed to let out a collective breath as their Captain answered. "It's good to hear your voice, Lieutenant. We've been waiting a long time for this moment."

"_The feeling is mutual. Unfortunately, the micro-wormhole is collapsing. We may have only a few moments._"

This tempered the excitement of the _Voyager _crew slightly, but the Captain never lost her outward composure. "Understood. We are transmitting our ship's logs, crew reports and navigational records to you now."

"_Acknowledged. And we're sending you data on some new hyper-subspace technology. We're hoping eventually to use it to keep in regular contact, and we're including some recommended modifications for your comm system._"

"We'll implement them as soon as possible," the Captain assured him, and she meant it. If there was any chance of regular, even occasional, contact with Earth...

"_There's someone else here who would also like to say something_," Barclay stammered.

Another voice came on the comm line, one neither the Captain nor her helmsman needed his first sentence to recognize. "_This is Admiral Paris._"

Janeway smiled at the voice of her mentor. "Hello, sir." The man's son was shocked beyond words.

"_How are your people holding up?_" he asked, and Janeway knew what he wasn't saying. In command fashion, he was asking after her crew, but there was one person he wanted to know about more than any other.

"Very well. They're an exemplary crew, your son included."

When the Admiral spoke again, he actually sounded a little choked up. "_Tell him, tell him I miss him. And I'm proud of him._"

Amazement shone in Tom's eyes, the same amazement they'd held when he'd first read his father's letter two years earlier, but he was still beyond speech. Janeway replied for him. "He heard you, Admiral."

"Captain," Harry Kim said in surprise from his console, interrupting the moment. "I don't know how, but the micro-wormhole's rate of collapse has slowed to a fraction of what it was before."

"What?" She spun to face him, shocked.

"It's as if it's starting to stabilize."

She heard Barclay again, although this time, it didn't appear as if he was talking to _Voyager_. "_Lieutenant? I think it's working._"

xxxxxxxxx

Asil checked to make sure her modifications were holding and then she turned so she could speak into the comm. "Captain, I have implemented modifications on this end to slow the rate of collapse. It would be most effective if you were to implement the same modifications to the other aperture as well."

"_Can you transmit them to us, Lieutenant? I'll have our astrometrics lab implement them immediately._"

"Yes, Captain. Computer, document all modifications made to the wormhole since the most recent redirection and transmit via currently open emergency channel."

"_Acknowledged. Message has been compiled and transmitted._"

"_Thank you, Lieutenant_." Janeway's gratitude was clearly very heartfelt. "_How long do you expect the wormhole to be able to remain open for?_"

"I cannot be certain, as this procedure has never been attempted. If my calculations are correct - half an hour, perhaps a little longer if we are fortunate."

"_If past examples are any indication, it is more than likely your calculations are correct._"

Vulcan or not, that voice stopped Asil in her tracks. It was a good two minutes before she could form a response. "It is only an estimate. However, if you believe that to be the case, the Captain should make a decision as to what to do with that period of time."

xxxxxxxxx

"_...the Captain should make a decision as to what to do with that period of time._"

"Right. Mr. Chakotay, tell the crew the situation and inform them that they have twenty minutes to write and submit any letters they'd like us to send through. That goes for all of you," she added to the bridge crew. "I know it's not a lot of time, but I also know that a lot of us have letters already written that we've been holding onto since we lost that relay network two years ago. That chance we were waiting for? This is it."

"Lieutenant." Seven of Nine's voice came through the comm system on the bridge, clearly intended for the occupants of the far-off lab.

"_Yes?_" answered both Barclay and the female Lieutenant who had yet to identify herself.

Except, apparently, in the relayed data Seven had been working off of. "Lieutenant Asil."

Janeway snapped her head around to look at Tuvok as the Lieutenant in question replied. "_Yes, I am present. To whom am I speaking?_"

"My designation is Seven of Nine. The modifications you transmitted have been implemented and appear to be working. By my estimates, we have approximately one half hour before it will collapse beyond the point where it is useful."

"_I concur._"

Janeway, meanwhile, had migrated over to tactical station. "Tuvok," she said softly enough not to be picked up by the comm system, "we're in open space. There's nothing on sensors. We're not even at warp. Go ahead. Talk to your daughter."

Tuvok nodded slowly. "Asil?"

It didn't escape the bridge crew's notice that one of the most precise members of their crew had dropped the woman's title, but no one commented as she replied. "_Yes. I am here._"

"Are you well?"

"_Yes_," she said again. "_We all are._"

"All?" he repeated. The bridge crew recognized this as the tone he used when he wanted more information on something he'd just been told.

"_My mother, my brothers, my sister, and their families._"

This time, the look Janeway turned on her second officer was a questioning one. As far as she knew, Asil was Tuvok's only daughter, and his sons' wives would be covered under _their families_. But she didn't ask, and Tuvok didn't volunteer the information. "Tell them I miss them. I have letters prepared to send all of you."

"I will."

**Breaking this here because it's plenty long enough and I want to get it posted - the next chapter will be wrap-up for this one.**

**The chapter's premise and some of the dialogue are drawn from the Voyager episode **_**Pathfinder.**_** Lenara Kahn and her research are from the DS9 episode **_**Rejoined.**_

**Please review.**


	46. Chapter Forty-Six: Obstacle in the Path

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty-Six: Obstacle in the Path**_

"_Keep a docking bay open for us. We hope to see you -_" and then the line went dead, cutting off the end of Janeway's remark.

Thirty-eight minutes," Paris remarked. "That's no small feat, you two."

Asil nodded, her characteristic Vulcan stoicism in full force, but Barclay seemed to be less than thrilled. Paris noticed. "Why the long face, Mister Barclay?

"Because, because it's over, sir.

"No, Lieutenant," he corrected. "I'd say that Project Voyager is just beginning, thanks to you." He turned to Asil. "And you, Lieutenant. Why weren't you assigned to this project to begin with?"

"My existing duties occupied enough of my time to make an additional assignment impractical, and I did not see a logical reason to abandon any other project partway through in order to work on this one, despite my personal connection to _Voyager_."

"But you did look into Lieutenant Barclay's research," Harkins pointed out.

"Only because it appeared no one else would. It appears I was incorrect, Admiral. I apologize for my misconception."

"An understandable mistake, Lieutenant. You had only my behavior at the briefing to go on, and considering what just happened, I'll be the first to admit I was dismissive. No apologies necessary." He smiled. "Although I won't say I'm sorry for being dismissive, if that's what it took to get you on the project. Pulling in Dr. Kahn's research isn't something any of us would have thought of." He smiled. "Now, as for letting someone into the lab who was relieved of duty, tell me the truth. Exactly what happened?"

"After I reviewed both Lieutenant Barclay's research and Dr. Kahn's, I came down to the lab with the intention of attempting the plan."

"So you didn't call Lieutenant Barclay here."

"No, I did not. Had he not been here, I would have attempted to implement the plan without assistance. However," she admitted, "I suspected he would attempt to return to the lab tonight, regardless of the ban."

"You did?" Barclay asked, surprised.

"I spoke to an officer who used to serve with Mr. Barclay. She told me he is inclined to follow his research through even over objections, regardless of whether the source of those objections outranks him."

"A-admiral, I was about to - to tamper with the security system when Lieutenant Asil showed up. I would've gotten into the lab with or without her help."

"Understood, Lieutenant, and I appreciate your honesty. All the same, Lieutenant Asil, that doesn't make it right for you to grant him access he wasn't entitled to. If you hadn't known that would be one thing, but Commander Harkins says he told you Lieutenant Barclay had been relieved of duty."

"I will not deny that, Admiral."

"I'm glad to hear that. Considering mitigating factors, the consequences will be as follows. Lieutenant Asil, consider this an official warning. A notation will be placed on your file for the next 180 days. If, at that time, you have committed no other infractions, the notation will be removed and none of this will be reflected in your permanent record."

"Thank you, sir."

"As for you, Lieutenant Barclay, seeing as you were the one who was told not to be here, I'm afraid I have to be a little more strict with you. A reprimand will be placed on your permanent record. However, in recognition of the same mitigating circumstances, I don't believe any further disciplinary action is necessary. Assuming Commander Harkins agrees, I believe your suspension can be lifted and you can be cleared to return to work."

"On three conditions," Harkins put in.

"What conditions?" Barclay asked, his voice a mixture of eagerness and trepidation.

"First of all, you use Starfleet Engineering Corps holodeck systems for research purposes only. Second, you see a counselor of your choosing regarding your holo-addiction - and yes, Lieutenant, I _do_ have to consider this a relapse, considering the situation. And third, you are to be supervised or work with another officer for any part of your work that requires you to use holographic simulations until such a time as your counselor deems that precaution no longer necessary, at which point he or she can contact me directly and let me know as much. Do we have a deal?"

"Okay, Pete," he replied. "We have a deal."

"Then welcome back, Mr. Barclay."

xxxxxxxxx

"I'm sorry you got in trouble over me."

"It is of no consequence," Asil replied evenly. "The notation on my file will only apply for the next six months, and as I do not intend to seek a new assignment during that time, and nor do I intend to commit any infraction that would cause the notation to become permanent, it will have no true impact on my life."

"But your supervisor -"

"Captain Scott once served under Captain Kirk. I doubt he will view a minor breach of regulations as cause for concern. It is you whose record is permanently affected; perhaps you should be more concerned with yourself than with me."

"I don't care about my rank," Barclay replied. "I know I'm not command material - I'll never be a Captain, probably never be a Chief Engineer either. What does it matter if I'm a few months later on a promotion than I would have been? When it comes down to it, any decent commander allocates the work to the person who can do it, not the person with the highest rank. I'll be doing the same work regardless of how many pips I have on my collar."

"That is a very logical way of perceiving the situation. And you are correct. If I ever need an engineer for a project requiring innovative thinking, it is likely I would request you."

"Really?"

"Vulcans do not lie, Mr. Barclay."

"I know, I'm sorry, I just meant -"

"I know what you meant," she said, deciding to spare him trying to explain.

He smiled. "Well, then, I look forward to it." He paused for a moment to change topics. "I didn't realize you had a personal connection to _Voyager_. You never said anything."

"It is irrelevant," she replied quickly. "Once I decided to work on Pathfinder, I brought the extent of my knowledge and abilities to bear on the problem. I would have done so even if my father was not aboard _Voyager_. The subject did not arise as part of the natural course of our conversation and I saw no reason to change that course in order to mention it."

"You must have been thinking about your father the whole time."

"I frequently think about things that are not related to the conversation at hand. Unlike many humans, I do not feel the need to voice them."

Barclay's combadge beeped, and he tapped it. "Barclay."

"_Reg? You coming or not?_"

"Is it that late already?" He checked the wall chronometer. "I guess it is. I should go, Lieutenant, Commander Harkins is waiting on me."

"Of course."

xxxxxxxxx

"Lieutenant Paris, I need to see you in my ready room."

Tom waited just long enough for his backup to take over the helm and then followed the Captain into her ready room. "Okay," he asked, genuinely perplexed, "what did I do?"

"Sit down, Tom." She indicated her couch.

Now thoroughly puzzled, he sat. "Captain, if I did something wrong -"

"It's nothing you did, Tom." She sat down next to him. "Your father sent me a message while we had the wormhole open -"

"So he finds the time to write a personal message to you and not me? And here I thought he was coming around."

"He is, Tom. But this is something he didn't want to tell you in a written message." She drew a long breath. _I hate this part of my job_. "It's about your sister Kathleen. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Tom; she was killed by the Dominion two years ago. I am so sorry."

He just stared at her. "No," he said finally. "She wasn't in Starfleet. How could she be killed by the Dominion? It doesn't make sense. You must have misunderstood."

"I wish that were true," she said gently. "The Breen attacked Earth two years ago. She and her family were in a civilian shelter the ground troops invaded." She gently touched his shoulder. "When the security officers were overrun, she picked up a phaser and held them off long enough for the others to evacuate. She died a hero, Tom. I know that probably doesn't mean much to you right now -"

"My sister is_ not _dead," he said forcefully, punching every word, getting up off the couch to emphasize his point. "She can't be. She's a civilian, her and Moira both. If one of us was going to die young it was supposed to be me. I'm the one who's in Starfleet, I'm the one who's almost died a dozen times, it was supposed to be me, damn it! It was supposed to be me."

His voice broke off at that last, choked up as the magnitude of what he'd just been told caught up with him. His legs suddenly felt like they wouldn't support him anymore, and he was grateful for Captain Janeway's arm guiding him back to the couch.

"Would you like me to get someone for you?" she offered. "B'Elanna or Harry?"

"No, I'm fine. Just give me a minute to get my head around it."

"Tom," she chided, sympathy in every syllable, "there's no way you're fine after something like this, and the fact that you're insisting you are worries me more than anything. I think you're right that you don't have your head around it yet, and when you do, I think it's going to hit you harder than you realize. You've already been hit with the first wave of it so suddenly you couldn't stand up, and I'm afraid the worst may still be to come. I'm not letting you back on duty just because you think you're ready."

"So what? I only get to go back on duty when I think I'm _not_ ready?"

"Give it a day. If you really feel tomorrow like you're able to come back on duty, then I won't stop you."

xxxxxxxxx

But he didn't last a day. He barely lasted three hours.

He was sitting in front of the television B'Elanna had replicated for him, holding her in his arms as he watched one of the programs. It was a kids' cartoon from the 1960s, the exact kind of mindless but funny thing he enjoyed. The cartoon moose on the screen was reciting the poem "Hickory Dickory Dock" and, in a scene Tom knew so well he could see it with his eyes closed, was injured chasing the mouse, who refused to run down on cue.

"How did this happen?" the doctor asked the injured moose. Tom grinned, knowing what was coming next.

The cartoon, predictably, didn't disappoint. "Well, obviously, it was Hickory Dickory... Doc."

He grinned even wider now as B'Elanna groaned predictably. She still didn't quite get the idea of cartoons not really having a point, even after he'd tried to explain it. He and his sisters had always loved this sort of thing, pointless though it was. In fact, this particular gag had always been Kathleen's favorite.

_Kathleen..._

"Tom? Tom!"

He sat rigid on the couch. He'd have to breathe to talk, and if he took a breath, he'd cry. He wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to...

"Tom." He could hear the strain in her voice that indicated worry. "Tom, you're scaring me. Talk to me."

And the one thing he didn't want to do, even more than cry, was hurt B'Elanna. He forced himself to draw a deep breath. Easy, steady, he didn't have to...

And then exactly what he'd been afraid of happened. His breath hitched, and a sob formed deep in his chest. He tried to hold it back but all he managed to do was keep it to a choked sob instead of a full-out one. It was plenty for her to notice. "Tom, what's wrong?"

But she quickly realized that the tight grip he needed to keep control of his emotions wasn't going to let him talk. She slid closer and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "Come here." She ran her fingers through his hair. "It's okay if you need to cry, Tom. No one has to know except you and me."

Another sob tore free as he relaxed his control enough to talk. "My sister," he gasped out. "Kathleen. She's dead. Killed in some invasion."

"Oh, God." She remembered how she'd felt when she'd learned that most of the Maquis had been killed. Tom had to be feeling the same thing times five at least. "I am so sorry."

Control was nonexistent at this point. He was sobbing against her shoulder, helpless to stop it. "I thought I was okay," he whispered when the sobs finally stopped. "I guess I'm not as okay as I thought."

"You're not supposed to be okay," she replied. "I thought I was okay after the Maquis were killed - you remember how that turned out. I'm going to tell you right now, I have no intention of letting that happen to you."

"How am I supposed to get over this? I don't mean now," he added at her look, "I mean _ever_. I hurt so damn much I can barely breathe. She was my big sister, she used to try and help me stand up to Dad. And now she's gone, and I'm halfway across the galaxy. How am I supposed to get over that? How am I supposed to _survive_?"

She ran her fingers through his hair again. "I don't know _how_, Tom, and I know you're hurting like hell right now and nothing I say is going to make that better. But I know you _will_ get through this, because I know _you_, and I know you're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. And in the meantime, you have more than a hundred people on this ship who'll help you if you ask - though I might avoid asking Seven." That almost got a smile out of him, but he just couldn't quite manage one. "Come on, let's go to bed. It's late, and you should sleep. You're exhausted."

"I don't think I can."

"At least try. I'll hold you."

"Okay." He really wasn't sure at all that trying would do any good, but lying in bed being held sounded pretty damn good, whether or not he could sleep.

xxxxxxxxx

"I thought you only had one daughter," Janeway remarked to her oldest friend.

He didn't need to ask what she meant. "Biologically, yes, that is true."

"Then who was Asil talking about? One of your sons' wives?"

"No," he replied. "A human woman I mentored."

"You must have more than just mentored her," the Captain commented. "Humans can be flippant sometimes about family, calling their friends brothers or sisters, but not Vulcans."

It was clear a more detailed explanation was warranted. "She had no family, and when I first knew her, she was legally a child. I took her into my home. She knew all of my children, but Asil was very young when Tasha first came to live with us, and she looked up to her."

"You didn't have a problem with that?" Janeway asked. "I seem to remember you having more than a passing dislike for humans. I know you got over that, but having your daughter want to emulate a human, for most Vulcans..."

"Tasha had many qualities that were admirable," Tuvok replied, and it took Janeway a moment to realize that he wasn't just stating facts, he was _defending_ this woman. "Strength and determination especially. And Asil knew our ways and our customs, she knew logic. Tasha understood this and did not attempt to interfere, and unlike some of my people, I do not believe that the mere presence of humans or other emotional species is enough to turn our youth from the logical path. The disdain I held for humanity is long gone, in fact there are some humans I might even say are worthy of my admiration."

"Like this Tasha."

"And much of this crew."

xxxxxxxxx

"How did he sound?"

Asil started trying to think about how to describe the situation, then changed her mind. "Come here."

When Tasha did so, Asil raised her hands to her sister's temples. "My mind to your mind," she said softly. "My thoughts to your thoughts."

Tasha had been part of a Vulcan mind-meld only once before, when Tuvok had convinced her to let him see the horrible memories of her childhood. That time, he'd entered her memories. This time, it was as though Asil was guiding her through her own memories, letting her experience them for herself. She heard Tuvok's voice as if she'd been standing there herself. There were tears in her eyes when the link was broken. "Thank you," she whispered, and pulled Asil to her, hugging the younger woman tightly.

"And there is this," Asil added, holding out a data PADD. "I gathered from what I heard on the link that many of the crew had letters prepared when we were briefly able to contact _Voyager_ through the relay network."

"Thank you," Tasha said again, and turned her attention to the words on the screen in front of her.

_My daughter_, it began, and she felt more tears well up in her eyes.

_Let me first offer my congratulations on your marriage. And while I am certain you have been forced to justify your choice of mate to many, I will not count myself among that number. Your judgment of character has always been keen and astute, and if you judge Lieutenant Commander Data a good man, I need no other evidence to convince me._

_As for the remainder of your letter, you have long been as a daughter to me. I considered you only a friend and a protegee because I did not want to be overly forthright with you or to assume a position that was not mine to take._

"It's always been yours," Tasha whispered, now crying outright. "Since the day you took me into your home."

_I would be honored to accept you as a daughter of my house. I would never stop you from recognizing yourself as such. Captain Janeway has already shortened our journey more than I would have believed possible, and thus I am hopeful that _Voyager _will return to the Alpha Quadrant in only a fraction of the time originally estimated. And when she does return to Earth, I will face you and call you my child, and you may call me your father._

Tasha was crying even harder as she reached the end of the letter. "I love you," she whispered. "I love you, Father. I love you."

**The mention of Tuvok's disdain for humanity comes from the Voyager episode **_**Flashback**_**, in which, during the titular flashback, Janeway hears Tuvok rant against humanity.**

**One of my reviewers was curious about the way Asil was acting, namely her exasperation with some human mannerisms. In short, while Asil is very close to several humans and has chosen a profession where she'll be surrounded by humans, she's still Vulcan and still retains the Vulcan dictates of logic. Unlike, say, Data, she doesn't aspire to be more like the humans around her, she's just able to be friends with them despite their differences and willing to accept those differences.**

**Please review.**


	47. Chapter FortySeven: What Brings You Back

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty-Seven: What Brings You Back**_

Julian pulled Jenna close as the music changed to a slow song, smiling to himself. They'd been living on the station together for nearly a year now, and the connection between them had only gotten stronger. She loved her job and did it well, and they both loved being able to be together.

Several of the holographic club patrons screamed suddenly, and the holographic host stopped singing. In the next moment, they heard the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. At first, Julian worried that it was another surprise twist in the well-loved program. The last one had given them much more of an adventure than they'd ever wanted.

Jenna, who had been facing the direction where the chaos had come from, quickly tapped her combadge as Julian turned to see what was going on. "Security to Holosuite One."

But Julian recognized the man who lay on the floor of the holosuite, looking dazed and disoriented, still wearing a Starfleet uniform, looking just as he had when he had suddenly stopped in the middle of a dance two years ago - stopped in that exact place, as a matter of fact, and run out of the room. "Jen," he called out, already running to the man's side, "cancel that security call. Bashir to Infirmary -"

"Cancel that too," the man on the floor said in a deep, reverberating voice. "I'm fine, if you'll just help me off the floor."

Julian extended his hand and pulled the larger man to his feet. The man looked around in amazement. "You're even running the same holodeck program. Don't tell me you're still paying Quark to run it 24/7."

"No, although considering how many people run it, we're not that far off. I just happened to be running it tonight."

"Julian," the blonde woman queried, "what's going on?"

"Jenna D'Sora, meet Captain Benjamin Sisko."

"That's right," she said as she finally placed the vaguely familiar face, "you were at Tasha Yar's wedding, weren't you?"

He nodded, taking her hand and shaking it. "I remember, I approved your transfer just before I - took my leave. Taking on both Odo and Worf's responsibilities was a big job, but Tasha assured me you were up to it. How long has it been, anyway?"

"Almost a year."

"Kassidy -"

Bashir smiled suddenly, bright enough to light up the holodeck. "You have a daughter. She's four months old; her name is Alexandria Jennifer Sisko."

He was smiling too now, tears glowing in his eyes. "I want to see them. And Jake."

Julian glanced over at Jenna, and she took his meaning from the look. "D'Sora to Kassidy Sisko."

"_This is Kassidy._"

"Can you bring Lexie to Holosuite One?"

A pause. Then, "_what?_"

"Please. I'll explain when you get here."

"_Okay, on my way. But this better be good._"

Jenna grinned, and then made a similar call to Jake, while Julian discreetly removed the holographic club patrons. The holosuite door hissed open.

"I had _just_ gotten her to sleep," Kassidy informed them. "I really hope you have a good reason for -"

"Kassidy."

She stopped in mid-step. "_Ben_?"

He nodded, eyes full of tears, and opened his arms. She ran into them, wrapping one arm around his waist as the other held the baby between them. "Meet your daughter," she whispered.

"She's beautiful," he whispered back. "Absolutely perfect. I can't believe you named her after Jennifer."

"I figured it was what you would have done. I wanted her to have a name that might have been one she would have had if you'd been there to name her."

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there to see her born. If I'd had any control over it - my family means more to me than anything, Kassidy. Even if I don't always do the greatest job of showing it."

"Dad?" said another voice from the doorway.

"Jake!" He pulled away from Kassidy to embrace his son and then pulled her back to him so he could hug all three of them.

"They're going to be here awhile," Jenna commented so only Julian could here. "What do you say we let them be and go continue this night somewhere else?"

xxxxxxxxx

In under an hour it was all over the station. Captain Sisko was back.

Apparently, he and Kira were now arguing over who would be in command of the station - not each arguing for themselves, as might have been expected, but Kira trying to abdicate to Sisko by virtue of his seniority and him insisting it wouldn't be fair to essentially take the station out from under her, especially since it was clear she'd been doing a great job.

Julian had taken on the job of calling the former Deep Space Nine senior staff members now scattered in various parts of the quadrant and letting them know - all except Odo, who no one knew how to reach. Jadzia in particular had been ecstatic; Benjamin was, after all, one of her closest friends. Jenna had called Tasha and filled her in too. Before a day had passed, Julian predicted, the entire _quadrant_ would know Benjamin Sisko was again among his corporeal peers.

"Julian?" Jenna asked softly.

"Yes?"

"I thought you liked Captain Sisko."

"I do," he replied, now perplexed. "Why?"

"You seem excited, but you also seem almost disappointed. You forget how well I can read you."

"I don't forget," he countered, "I just thought I was doing a better job of faking it."

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's not Sisko himself, it's his timing. I just really wanted last night to be special, about us. Obviously it's not his fault, I'm not upset _at_ him, I'm just generally upset."

"Julian," she chided gently, "we'll have more dates."

"I know," he replied, but he didn't sound placated.

"What's so special about tonight?" she asked, trying not to lose patience. "Is there something about the date that I've forgotten?"

"No. I mean, there isn't anything about the date yet, but I was going to make it into a date you'd never forget." Before she could ask, he reached for his jacket, now draped over a chair, fumbled around in the pocket, and pulled something out. "This isn't what I had in mind, but I don't want to wait for our next date. Jenna D'Sora, will you marry me?"

She looked more shocked than she had when Sisko had appeared out of thin air. "I don't know what to say."

"Say yes," he replied, sounding almost breathless.

"Yes," she said, beaming. "Yes, I'll marry you."

**I had already started work on another chapter when I decided I wanted to do this one first, so I'm sorry about the long wait.**

**This chapter references the DS9 episodes**_** Badda-Bing, Badda-Bang**_** and **_**What You Leave Behind.**_

**Please review.**


	48. Chapter Forty-Eight: Another Trial

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty-Eight: Another Trial**_

Data walked into his quarters and immediately had to duck as a heavy object - a candlestick, he realized after a literal fraction of a second - came flying at him. His wife's voice followed it a second later. "Sorry, Data. I didn't hear the door opening until it was too late."

"Is something wrong?" He came to stand in front of her. "You are angry and agitated. It is evident by your voice."

He hadn't expected this kind of emotion at all. Just days earlier, she'd been so happy she'd been practically dancing around their quarters. Asil and Barclay, together with a few of the _Voyager_ crew, had managed to create an actual communication link between Earth and the ship lost in the Delta Quadrant.. It was only usable for a few minutes a day, but it meant actual, face-to-face contact between the crew and the people they'd left behind.

"You've heard about that new holo-novel? The one _Voyager'_s doctor wrote?" The Doctor had made good use of his own comm time, it seemed, and had submitted a holo-novel to an Earth publisher.

"I scanned a preview of it in my memory banks. I admit, it does not show the _Voyager_ crew in a positive light -"

"It was a _draft_!" Tasha grabbed the nearest thing that wasn't bolted down - which fortunately, this time, was only a pillow from the couch - and hurled it at the wall, exercising just enough caution to make sure it wasn't anywhere near hitting Data. "The publisher took the draft and published it without the Doctor's consent! Because he's an _artificial life form_ and therefore they've decided he doesn't have any _rights_ and how can you not be as angry about this as I am?"

She looked into his face, and then she was shocked to see a single yellow tear sliding down his face. "Oh, Data." She took him in her arms, holding him close.

"Emotions are not always rational," he said softly. "It is not uncommon for an individual to exhibit an emotional response that is not what is expected."

"What are you feeling?" she asked him gently, forcefully shoving down her anger. "Tell me."

"I feel - I feel hurt," he replied. "That my own existence would seem to be so devalued. And I feel sad. When I fought for my own rights to be recognized, I believed my fight would make it easier for other artificial life forms. And it has not."

"I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I shouldn't have sprung that on you without warning like that. I was so caught up in my own anger that I didn't even think about the fact that what I'd be saying would have more of an impact on you than on me."

"Is there a hearing?" he asked suddenly.

"That's what Admiral Paris told me. Starts the day after tomorrow."

"We are only a day's travel by warp-capable shuttle from Earth," he told her. "While I am certain the _Voyager_ crew will provide an advocate for the Doctor, as someone who has been in the same situation, I would like to be his advocate. And I would like for you to be by my side."

She tilted her head up to kiss his cheek. "I'll always be by your side."

xxxxxxxxx

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Admiral?" the hologram asked the man on the screen. He really hoped this man wasn't angry at him for the character in his holo-novel based on Tom. The man's words were still in the back of his mind. _I don't care if the whole Alpha Quadrant mistakes me for Lieutenant Marseilles. What bothers me is that you think that's what I'm like._

Except he didn't. He had been telling the truth when he said he'd started with loose representations of the crew and made the story up pretty much out of thin air from there, molding the characters however he pleased to make the story better. It hadn't been until Tom had said that that he really realized how it looked to everyone else.

Thankfully, the Admiral chose not to comment on that. "I'm certain you already have a member of _Voyager_'s crew standing by as your representative, but there is someone here in the Alpha Quadrant who has personally asked to advocate for you."

"Forgive me for being skeptical," he replied, "but how do I know this person is really acting in my best interest? I know the _Voyager_ crew, in fact they're the _only_ people I really know."

"Commander, would you come here please?" Paris glanced over at someone who was out of view of the screen and then stepped back to let that person come into the camera's foreground.

It was a humanoid figure that stepped forward, but he didn't fit any species that the Doctor knew. He would have looked human except for the fact that his skin was ivory and his eyes were yellow. And yet, the Doctor didn't need to know his species to know who stood before him. "Commander _Data_?"

"I believe my expertise in relations between Federation authorities and artificial life forms may prove relevant here."

"I'd - I'd be honored."

"I have only one condition," the android explained.

"Let's hear it."

"I work as half of a team." It was his turn to wave someone into the camera's lens; a human woman with short blond hair. "This is my wife, and my own advocate. Her experience is nearly equal to me, and I - I work better partnered with her."

The Doctor regarded the woman for a long moment. Data he trusted without question, but her - so many humans and other species had treated him as lesser that, especially after this latest body blow, he was hesitant to trust her so easily.

_But she_ married_ an android_, another part of his simulated brain insisted. _She can't be the same as them._

His simulated eyes met her organic ones, and the intensity in the blue orbs almost knocked him back a step. No, he realized a split-second later, it wasn't the intensity, it was the _familiarity_ in that intense gaze. He saw that look on a regular basis.

And then he remembered. _Your Starfleet idol is now married. To my second cousin._ He couldn't believe it had taken so long for him to make that connection. That was Tom's determination he was seeing in her eyes.

"Okay," he said finally. "What's the plan?"

xxxxxxxxx

"I just wanted you to know," he told the Vulcan, "I don't have any doubt that you would have done just fine as my advocate." Of course, it was ridiculous to worry about hurting a Vulcan's feelings, but he was worried anyway. The _Voyager_ crew was practically his family, and he'd already hurt most of them in one week.

"Were we in the Alpha Quadrant, you would have your choice of trained defenders," Tuvok replied evenly. "I was selected as the best option out of a rather limited pool. If a better option has been presented, it would be illogical for you not to avail yourself of it."

"I'm still not sure what I think of this woman," he admitted.

"Woman? I thought Commander Data had volunteered to be your advocate."

"He did. But he's asked that his wife be a part of the defense team as well. I didn't think it would be right to refuse, considering the massive favor he's doing me, but -"

"You should not refuse."

"You're lecturing me on protecting someone's feelings?"

"Feelings are not at issue here. You would do yourself a disservice by refusing Tasha's assistance."

His perfect electronic memory allowed him to connect that name with a conversation he'd had with the Vulcan three years earlier. "Tasha? The human girl you fostered?"

"The same. She will fight fiercely for what she believes in - including the rights of artificial life forms. You would be remiss not to take advantage of such passion."

"I had no idea she was the same person, it's a common enough name. I knew she was Lieutenant Paris' cousin, that and the fact that she's Commander Data's wife are the only reasons I accepted at all."

"She will accept nothing less than success." This conversation called to mind a vivid memory of a teenage girl walking around, begging one Starfleet officer after another to hear her out, refusing to leave even as one after another dismissed her.

"Thank you, Commander."

xxxxxxxxx

"You got Louvois' statement?"

"Here." Data handed her the PADD. "It includes an audio portion; she has asked that we play it during the hearing."

"She really wasn't happy, huh? Long way to go from someone who was once ready to declare you a piece of machinery."

Data shrugged. "I blame Maddox for that, not Louvois. She was willing to hold the hearing, to acknowledge there were things she did not know. In any case, she seems the sort of person who does not like having her rulings countered or questioned."

"MIDAS array becomes operational in an hour," Tasha told him, though doubtless he already knew that. "Let's make sure we've absolutely got everything in order before then. Unfortunately, we don't have a whole lot of chances to consult one-on-one with our client."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha gently squeezed Data's hand before he stood to give his opening statement. The android glanced briefly at his client on the screen, then to the arbitrator.

"It is true," he began, "that Federation law says that holograms have no rights." Tasha saw the momentary panic that flashed across the doctor's face, and she caught his eye, trying to reassure him as Data continued. "However, I submit that the law in question is not adequate to address this situation. Simply put, there has never before been a sentient hologram covered under Federation law. Laws were never meant to be stagnant; they are meant to be adaptive, to allow for unforeseen circumstances, and with all due respect to the Doctor, his very existence as a sentient hologram could easily be construed as such with relation to this law. If Mr. Broht wishes to deny the Doctor ownership of his creation, he must be able to justify the law in question, not merely cite it."

He and Tasha exchanged smiles as he sat back down, and as they glanced at the screen, they could see that the Doctor was smiling too.

xxxxxxxxx

"We're exploring new territory today," the Arbitrator said, "so it is fitting that this hearing is being held at Pathfinder. The Doctor exhibits many of the traits we associate with a person. Intelligence, creativity, ambition, even fallibility. Under other circumstances, I might have wondered if this was sentience or programming. But I see in this courtroom today another example of the same thing." Tasha smiled at Data, squeezing his hand, as the Arbitrator continued. "A single example could be happenstance, but in a situation as rare as artificial life forms, even two occurrences must be considered a pattern. In addition, I am loath to ignore the precedent on this subject. Starfleet Judge Advocate General Phillipa Louvois ruled more than a decade ago that artificial life forms can be granted personhood rights if it can be shown that they could reasonably be considered to have sentience. I am not willing to declare the Doctor a person. However, until we can definitively prove or disprove his personhood, it is preferable to err on the side of protecting individual rights. I hereby grant the Doctor the same basic rights that apply to any Federation citizen, including the right to control his artistic work. I'm ordering all copies of his holo-novels to be recalled immediately."

Tasha vaguely heard the publisher protesting, but his exact words were lost to her as Data swept her up in his arms and they embraced each other. He lifted her clear off her feet and spun her around in a circle. She was laughing. "You won, Data!"

"Not strictly true," he said, putting her back on the floor and meeting her eyes. "In the strictest sense, I did not win."

Tasha may not have had Data's perfect recall, but she remembered the conversation she knew he was referencing almost immediately. "You 'busted him up', right, Data?" she asked with a smile.

He smiled too, but shook his head. "I was going to say, _we_ won. You are half of this team as well. Do not discount your own contribution."

**Sorry this took so long, but I wanted to get it just right!**

**This chapter references the Voyager episode **_**Author, Author**_** and the TNG episodes **_**The Measure of a Man**_** and **_**Peak Performance.**_

**Please review.**


	49. ChapterFortyNine:From the Delta Quadrant

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Forty-Nine: From the Delta Quadrant**_

Tasha began to cry as soon as she saw the man on the screen, and she could tell he was choking up too. "Hey," he said lightly. "Long time no see."

"Yeah." She smiled through her tears. "How're you doing?"

"I'm good. No, really." He smiled. "It sucks being stuck out here, but at the same time I sometimes think that's the best thing that ever happened to me."

"You should've seen my face when I saw in your last letter that you're married now."

"Probably similar to the look on my face when I saw that first letter you sent me, the one that told me _you_ were married. But actually, there's more."

"More?" Tasha repeated numbly. "What more can there be?"

Tom's smile almost split his face in half. "B'Elanna's pregnant. In less than five months, I'm going to be a dad."

Tasha grinned too now. "Tom, that's amazing! Congratulations!"

"I'm over the moon about it - well, whatever moon is in the area, that is," he added with a chuckle. "Got my pick of them out here."

"Do you know what you're having?"

He nodded. "A girl. B'Elanna wanted to be surprised at first, but the doctor accidentally let something slip that suggested - anyway, he projected a picture of our baby for us in Sickbay, how she's going to look after she's born, and she's the most beautiful little girl. If she stays on the track she's on now, she's gonna look just like her mom."

"It is incredible," Tasha said softly.

"Tasha, I'm sorry," he said suddenly, "I didn't mean -"

"No, Tom, don't," she interrupted. "It _was_ incredible. It's hard to remember sometimes because of what happened to her, but I _do_ remember what it was like to be pregnant and to hold my baby for the first time. Incredible doesn't begin to describe it."

"_One minute_," said a voice from offscreen.

"Thanks, Seven." He turned back to Tasha. "Next time we chat, bring Data along, won't you? I want to meet him."

"I'll bring Data if you bring B'Elanna."

"Deal."

"_Thirty seconds._"

"I love you," she whispered, bringing her fingers up to almost touch the screen.

He mirrored her action, and they stood as they had in the _Bradbury_'s brig seven years earlier. "I love you too."

They stared into each other's eyes as the connection filled with static and then cut out completely.

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha just barely saw Geordi coming in time to step out of his way. "Whoa, there. Where are you going?"

He stopped and turned, still looking rushed. "I don't know."

"You don't know where you're going?"

"Well, if you're going to make it sound ridiculous -" He broke off, sighing and burying his face in his hands. "I'm not headed anywhere. I've just been pacing the decks for the last hour, trying to get my head back on."

"What's wrong?"

He looked up, drawing a steadying breath. "Leah."

"What? Is she okay?"

"Physically, she's fine." He swallowed. "It's her husband. He was killed yesterday."

"Oh, God."

"Yeah, that's an understatement. Anyway, just like last time, she called me." He ran his hand over his face. "I gave her a shoulder, I think I said all the right things. But I just don't know what to do. I know it's not her fault, but I've been on this rollercoaster ride once before and ended up with nothing but a broken heart."

"I know," she replied, and she gently hugged him. "I think it's great how much you're willing to do for Leah, but you need to take care of you too."

"I want this," he replied into her shoulder. "I want to be with her, I want to have what we had. But I've healed, to a point, from our last breakup. I don't think I could deal with going through that all over again."

She hugged him tighter. "I can't tell you what to do, Geordi. Only you know that. But Data and I will be here for you no matter what."

"Tell me one thing, Tasha. If you were in my shoes, what would you do?"

"If I were in your shoes? I'd give her some time to grieve, and then I'd tell her what you just told me. Preferably in person."

xxxxxxxxx

"Geordi! Geordi!"

The engineer hadn't even gotten through the front door before six-year-old Joey jumped on him. His nine-year-old brother wasn't far behind, throwing his arms around Geordi's waist. It had only been a month since their father's death, but they showed no signs of being burdened by it. Not that Geordi was entirely surprised. Joey had never known his father at all, and George had been only three, barely old enough to remember the man. He was sure they missed their father, but they weren't grieving as they might have if they'd actually grown up with him around.

"Hey, you two," Geordi replied, hugging them both back. "Where's your mom?"

"Upstairs," Joey informed him.

"She's probably crying," George chimed in."She's been crying a lot."

"Will you play with us?" Joey asked eagerly.

Geordi laughed despite himself. "Later, okay? I promise." Then he gently set the younger boy down and headed up the stairs.

Leah was sitting in her room, in a chair by the window. She looked over when the door opened. "Geordi?"

"Yeah, I'm here." He opened his arms to her, and she ran to him.

"I'm really glad you're here," she whispered. Then, as George had predicted, she started to cry.

Geordi held her silently as she sobbed.

xxxxxxxxx

"I know we need to talk," Leah began softly.

Geordi only nodded. He's spent the past fifteen minutes trying to broach the subject.

"Feels like deja vu all over again, doesn't it?"

He smiled, but he knew it looked forced. "Yeah, kind of."

"Don't think I don't know that I hurt you, that I wasn't fair to you. I couldn't be fair to everyone, and you got the short end of the stick. I did love you, Geordi - I still do. I told you all of this when I found out he wasn't - " she choked, then composed herself and continued. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize."

"Yes, I do," she contradicted. "I know how much you love me. I gave you your heart's desire and then I snatched it back."

"It's not your fault, Leah," he countered. "This whole situation is a mess."

"Tell me about it." She let out what sounded like an attempt at a laugh. "I appreciate you being here for me. But if you don't want to stick around, I don't blame you."

"You still love me?" He knew she'd just said it, but he felt like he had to confirm it anyway.

"Yes."

"Then I'm willing to try this again."

**I'm sorry this took so long, especially for a short chapter, but short or not I had no idea what I wanted to do with it.**

**This chapter references the Voyager episodes **_**Lineage **_**and **_**Friendship One.**_

**Please review.**


	50. Chapter Fifty: Dangerous Game

**To The Journey**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

_**Chapter Fifty: Dangerous Game**_

"Tuvok, there's something I need to tell you. It's very important. I'm going away and I may not see you again."

It had been unusual enough when Kathryn Janeway had showed up on the doorstep, asking out of the blue to visit Tuvok. Tasha had come to expect their routines; Janeway on Sunday, the Doctor on Wednesday, and everyone else usually called first, seeming to understand that there was more going on in Tuvok's New Mexico house than just a sick man's affairs.

The comm link with _Voyager_ that had brought her so much joy in its first days had brought her as much heartache in the months and years that followed. For the longest time, Tuvok had tried to pretend nothing was wrong, but it had gotten to the point where he could no longer hide the neurological disease that was slowly destroying his brain. Tasha and the _Voyager_ crew had watched helplessly as the man they knew was lost to them a little at a time, and the torture was only intensified by the knowledge that he could have been cured, but the cure required him to mind-meld with someone with an incredibly specific mental compatibility, and no such person was available to him. By the time _Voyager_ had arrived back on Earth, twenty-three years after the fateful mission to the Badlands, it had been far too late for the Vulcan.

The doctors had wanted to place him in a hospital, but Tasha had objected, insisted on moving him back into his home on Earth. She had finally accepted Starfleet's offer of a job at Tactical Headquarters, Data had taken a job teaching at Starfleet Academy, and they had moved in with him.

There was, as Asil had pointed out to the doctors, more than a bit of logic in this situation. Tuvok was easily agitated in his condition, and the familiar surroundings helped keep him calm. But every time in the past ten years that Tasha had been asked, she'd say only that he'd been there for her at a crucial time, that she owed him everything, and that she would do anything to repay him.

But Tasha's shock at seeing Janeway was nothing compared to hearing her words. She hadn't intended to eavesdrop; she'd heard Tuvok starting to pace and had only run up the stairs in case she was needed to calm him. But now she couldn't unhear Janeway's words.

"Commander Barclay and the Doctor will continue to visit," the Admiral was saying. "They'll bring you anything you need."

"The Doctor comes on Wednesdays," Tuvok replied. "Commander Barclay's visits are erratic."

"And Tasha will be here," Janeway reminded.

"Tasha is here every day. She takes care of me."

"Yes. She takes care of you." There was a pause, and then Janeway spoke again. "Goodbye, Tuvok."

She walked out of the room and straight into the blonde, coming within inches of literally running into the woman. She sighed, burying her face in one hand. "How much did you hear?"

"Admiral, I can't lie for you," Tasha said bluntly, and Janeway paled slightly before she heard the next words. "That's why I'm telling you not to tell me a single detail. That way if I'm questioned, even under oath, there's nothing I can say to hurt you or get in the way of - whatever it is you're doing."

When the Admiral raised her head, Tasha could see tears shimmering in her eyes. "Thank you."

"Just one thing," she added. "What you're doing - will it help him?"

Janeway nodded slowly. "If it works, yes. It'll help him."

"Then as they used to say here on Earth, go with God."

Tasha didn't remotely expect what came next. While their relationship was good enough - it almost had to be, considering how often they saw each other - it had never been close. But Janeway stepped forward and embraced the younger woman, and Tasha hugged her back, and they stood there as if they'd been best friends for years.

"Thank you, Commander," Janeway whispered again. "For everything."

xxxxxxxxx

Tasha sprinted into the house just a few steps behind _Voyager_'s EMH. The emergency page that had pulled her from her desk in the middle of her shift had certainly sounded like nothing but bad news.

Tuvok was pacing his room almost frantically. "Fifty-three thirty-one seventy-one," he was saying repeatedly. " Fifty-three. Fifty-three. Fifty-three thirty-one seventy-one."

"Sorry if I pulled you away from something important," the doctor who came in to care for Tuvok during the day said quickly, "but he won't let anyone near him and I thought one of you might -"

"You did the right thing," the EMH assured him. "His condition's never been associated with violent behavior."

"He seems more frustrated than violent," the other doctor replied.

Tuvok was paying them no mind. "Long range sensors have detected no trace. Her disappearance remains a mystery. I am deeply concerned."

Tasha couldn't help the tears that sprang to her eyes. This was the hardest thing to cope with - watching Tuvok desperately groping for the remaining pieces of the man he had once been as if he could will them back together and become that man again.

She had heard that Tuvok had at one time lost his entire memory after an attack, that he had had to start from a completely blank slate for several weeks until they Doctor had finally been able to figure out how to reverse the damage. Many times she'd come within a hair's breadth of asking him if that procedure itself couldn't be reversed. The man who had started to develop in those weeks, she couldn't help thinking, would have a much easier time adapting to his current condition. At the very least, he wouldn't realize how far he'd fallen.

"What are you concerned about, Tuvok?" the EMH was asking gently.

"Her disappearance."

"Whose?"

The Vulcan just shook his head. "Fifty-three. Fifty-three thirty-one seventy-one."

"He's been repeating those same numbers over and over again," the human doctor told them. "Fifty-three thirty-one seventy-one. It might be a stardate."

"Fifty-three thirty-one seventy-one," the EMH repeated. "If my memory files are accurate, that was the day Captain Janeway was abducted by the Kellidians. Is that who you're talking about, Tuvok? Captain Janeway?"

"Her disappearance remains a mystery," Tuvok insisted.

"No, you solved that mystery, Tuvok," the EMH objected. "You rescued the captain and brought her back to Voyager safe and sound. Remember?"

But Tuvok shook his head in denial. "I am deeply concerned, deeply concerned."

"Do you think if the Admiral paid him a visit, showed him that she was all right?" the human doctor suggested.

"Unfortunately, she's out of town right now," the EMH said regretfully. "I'm not sure when she'll be back."

Equally unfortunately, they had momentarily forgotten that while Tuvok had lost his Vulcan control, he hadn't lost his Vulcan hearing. "She's never coming back! Her disappearance remains a mystery. I'm deeply concerned. Deeply concerned."

Tasha looked between the two doctors. "I have this," she said under her breath. "Tuvok, she's on - an away mission."

"An away mission?" he repeated.

"Yes, remember? She told you. She hasn't disappeared. She's on an away mission. For - for the benefit of _Voyager_'s crew."

"An away mission." The Vulcan finally relaxed. "For the benefit of _Voyager_."

"Exactly." _I really hope you know what you're doing, Admiral_, she thought silently. _Your crew really needs this help._

xxxxxxxxx

"Captain, what's going on?" Riker asked as the _Enterprise_ senior staff assembled on the bridge, relieving the other crewmembers at their stations. "Why are we at red alert?"

It was certainly a fair question. During the Dominion War, the sound of the Red Alert sirens had become so familiar it was almost strange to go more than a few days without hearing it. But the war had been over for two years, and this time when the sirens had gone off, it had actually taken some of the crew a few moments to realize what the sound was.

"A Borg transwarp aperture," he said grimly. "Opened up less than a light-year from Earth."

"My God," Deanna gasped.

"How many vessels?" Tasha asked from her position at tactical.

"Unclear," Data replied. "Starfleet Command reports unusual graviton emissions interfering with sensor readings."

"Dropping out of warp in five," the conn officer reported. "Four...three...two...one...mark."

As they reentered normal space, Tasha could see a number of other ships also dropping out of warp. "Data, patch me through to Command."

A familiar voice came through the comm a second later. "_Go ahead,_ Enterprise."

"Lieutenant Barclay, how many ships do we have?"

"_Eighteen present, nine more en route_."

"_You running this battle, Commander?_" Admiral Paris' voice joined Barclay's.

"If you want me to," she said seriously.

There was silence on the line for a minute, and Tasha guessed that the officers at command were discussing this. Then Paris came back on the line. "_I suggest we share command on this one. Keep an open line so we don't contradict each other and then just do what needs to be done._"

"Works for me."

"_Open channel to all ships,_" she heard him tell someone.

"_Channel open_," Barclay's voice replied in the background.

"_This is Admiral Paris. Use all necessary force. I repeat, all necessary force._"

"Something is emerging from the aperture," Data reported.

A single Borg sphere shot out of the aperture to a hail of phaser fire. Tasha began to call out commands, and she could hear Paris doing the same.

"_They're not firing back,_" Barclay reported, clearly baffled.

"It could be a trap," Tasha replied. "We can't risk standing down."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth, however, than a fireball began to engulf the sphere. A moment later, she realized the vessel was blowing up from the inside.

"_Cease fire!_" Paris ordered.

Out of the fireball and wreckage came a Starfleet vessel. At first, Tasha thought it was one of the fleet flying through, but the eighteen blips that had been there before were all accounted for, and her sensors clearly showed the other nine were still a distance away.

Paris' voice came through again. "_Commander Yar, there's a Starfleet ship -_"

"I see it."

"_The explosions are throwing off our sensors. Do you have a visual?_"

"Yes, sir. It appears to be an _Intrepid_-class vessel. Wait, I think I see the registry number from here. NCC - my God."

"_What is it, Commander?_"

"Data, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" she asked breathlessly.

"Affirmative," the android replied.

"_What exactly are you both seeing?_" Paris asked impatiently.

"Admiral," Tasha said softly, still barely believing her eyes. "The registry number is NCC-74656."

Complete silence filled the comm link. Finally, Paris spoke a single word. "Voyager."

"Yes, sir."

"_Our sensors are still unable to read clearly,_" Barclay informed them. "_We can't establish a comlink._"

"I think we can hail them from here," Tasha replied. "We'll tie you in, Command."

"_Do it, Commander_." The Admiral sounded as breathless as Tasha felt.

xxxxxxxxx

"We're being hailed from the fleet," Harry Kim reported.

"On screen," Janeway replied.

Another ship's bridge came into focus, and Janeway smiled as she recognized the two figures in the Captain's and First Officer's chairs. "Captain Picard, Commander Riker."

"_Captain Janeway._" Another voice drew Janeway's attention to the blonde woman at the tactical station, who appeared to be wiping tears from her eyes. "_I'm patching you through to Command. The residual energy from the explosion is interfering with their communications._"

"Understood. Thank you, Commander."

"_Welcome home._" Janeway was vaguely aware that the Commander glanced first at something near the bottom of the viewscreen, and from there to a point behind her left shoulder, but had little time to puzzle over it before the other ship's bridge disappeared and was replaced with a room at Starfleet Command and the faces of Admiral Paris and Lieutenant Barclay.

For a few moments, they just stood in silence. Janeway finally broke it. "Sorry to surprise you. Next time we'll call ahead."

"_Welcome back_," Paris replied wryly.

" It's good to be here."

"_How did you -_"

"It'll all be in my report, sir."

"_I look forward to it._" He smiled. "_Command out._"

As if on cue, another channel opened. "_Sickbay to the bridge._" Then a baby's cry filled the line.

The smiles on most of the bridge crew broke open into full-on grins as the EMH continued. "_Doctor to Lieutenant Paris. There's someone here who'd like to say hello._"

Janeway finally understood why Tom had been so reluctant to come to the bridge when she'd paged him to get underway. In the chaos that had followed, she hadn't had a chance to ask and he hadn't had a chance to share his news. "You'd better get down there, Tom."

The pilot needed no further prompting. As he all but sprinted for the turbolift, Janeway motioned to her first officer. "Mr. Chakotay, the helm."

"Aye, Captain."

"Set a course. For home."

**In case it wasn't clear, yes, this chapter takes place in two different timelines/time periods, just as the **_**Voyager **_**finale is. The first two segments are set in 2404 and exist in a timeline where it took **_**Voyager**_** twenty-three years to get home. The rest of the chapter exists in a timeline that's created after Admiral Janeway travels back in time to get **_**Voyager**_** home sooner.**

**This chapter references the Voyager episodes **_**Endgame**_** and **_**Riddles**_**.**

**Please review.**


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